Only the Weak
by Karete-chan
Summary: AU. BV, Zarbon, Ginyu Force and others. Set during Frieza's reign, a group of rebels arise on a little known planet called Chikyuu. But dissention is already apparent within Frieza's own ranks. Chapter 14 up!
1. Prologue

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that comes from Dragonball Z. I just wish I did. I do own anyone I make up though. Not that anyone cares… 

**Author's Note:** I know I said in the summary that this was a Bulma and Vegeta fic. It is but it didn't start out as one so please do not be freaked if you don't see them for a while. I also have no intention of leaving out my original characters, who were at first going to be the focus of this story. They are now learning to share so don't be surprised if they show up a lot. 

Also this story if rated R. On mm.org it is rated NC-17, but these first chapters I believe aren't that bad any future ones posted here will be toned down. If anyone has any qualms please let me know and I will do my best to fix them. 

**Prologue: **

****

I was walking down the street the other day. Something normal you'd think, but people cross the road to stay away from me. Don't get me wrong; I'm not a bad person. In fact people have told me that I'm one of the nicest people they've met. But your average joe on the street? They cross because of what I was.

I stopped to watch the children playing in the park. It wasn't really that long ago that I was exactly like them. Nothing to do except spend my time growing up and experiencing life. Nothing to worry about except getting my homework in on time. I was brought up surrounded by religion. A lot of it washed away when my prayers went unanswered as I watched my friends and others suffer. But a little survived and I pray to god that these children don't have to live through a hundredth of what I did. The parents noticed me then and herded the innocent little faces away to the comfort and safety of their homes. A few years ago I wouldn't have described them like that.

Children are so important, so precious. How anyone could ever treat them in a way that was other than with loving care will forever be a mystery to me. I have seen what happens to those who are not and it breaks my heart to know that they had no choice, and unlike myself, could not fight back.

There are few adults that I get along with that I don't know personally, through no fault of my own. I am as friendly and helpful as I ever was, if a little more cautious. But people will insist on reading the book by its cover. They tell their children scary stories about my friends and I to make them hate us but I have a disarming smile which children warm to. It is something I am eternally grateful for.

But you didn't come here to hear my thoughts on life. You came here to read a story, to hear the truth from those who were there those long years; from the invasion to the end, and for some, a long time before that. Maybe you will understand us a little better for it; otherwise it has just been a waste of our time.

Whoever said being a slave wasn't easy, should be shot. You may think that I'm being a little harsh. Personally, from where I am right now and where I've just been, I truly, honest to god, couldn't give a shit. Being a slave isn't easy; it's a Pandora's box where Hope never made it.

I've had people call me a liar. No one could survive all that, they say. If it were true there's no way in hell you'd be standing there. When I think on that, I'd have to agree but then I say one thing to them. We were lucky. Very, very lucky.


	2. Chapter 1

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 1: **

The guard in the corner watched silently as the new 'acquisitions' were unceremoniously thrown down the landing ramp. Two of them sobbed uncontrollably while the others looked too shocked to do anything. He was nonplussed. It was a scene that he had looked upon more times than he could count. 

The squad leader, a big broad shouldered man with pointed ears, yanked one up by her hair. She squealed in pain so he slapped her, snapping her head back violently. Tears snaked their way down her already dirt streaked face from her tightly clenched eyes. Another was refusing to get up. The second-in-command kicked her sharply in the stomach, sending her skidding across the metal decking. This caused one to stop crying and run to her friend who was writhing on the floor but the end of an electro whip caught her wrist and yanked her backwards. Hauled back into a group again they were forced to stand. The tears had ebbed by this time but every now and then a slightly louder hiccough would escape from one girl and she would be rewarded with a sharp backhand. 

After a few moments an old man with short, stumpy horns protruding from his forehead came and collected the girls from the callus words and punishments of the squad that had collected them. He led them through many corridors and down several levels, the guard from the landing deck bringing up the rear. The old man recited rules to them the whole way to the slave's quarters, not caring wether or not they were actually listening. He knew that were he not to do the job that was expected of him he would be more bruised and bloodied than the silent girls behind him. 

When they reached the final corridor the guard left them. As soon as he was out of sight the old man stopped and turned to face the girls. Pity could be seen in his small eyes as he spotted the bleeding wrist of one of them. They stared at the floor, their eyes dull. One of the girls hiccoughed again. Sighing he took the hand of the girl closest to him. She jerked away in fright but raised her eyes to his. Knowing he had captured her attention he quickly explained what happened to the young aboard Frieza's ships. Unbeknownst to the dazed girls he did this at great risk to his own life. His eyes darted up and down the corridor as he spoke. Were they caught out here the squad would be making another trip planet side for more slaves. 

The slaves in the common room looked up as they entered but grew disinterested when they realised that the 'new meat' wasn't going to make a scene. The girls were hustled across the room and down another corridor and then into another, much smaller room. This was theirs, they were told. They were to come here on rest and sleep periods. An impatient woman scurried up then and thrust what looked like tan sheets into their hands. She snapped at them to get changed and scurried out again, the old man following. 

As the door slid shut there was a moment of silence before the youngest broke out in sobs again. She sank to the floor as the others tried to pull themselves out of their shock. The one who had listened to the old man's words knelt next to the sobbing girl and in a hoarse voice repeated what he had said. Though they did not know who or what Frieza was, by the time she had finished each girl had silently decided that they had found hell. 

Moments after they had donned the tan garments the impatient woman came and herded them back towards the common room. It had a low ceiling and was only dimly lit. Many of the current slaves that were in the process of mending things had to lean almost nose-to-nose with their work in order to see what they were doing. Moans came from various parts of the room, slaves who had accidentally or deliberately gotten on the wrong side of their captors. They walked past one man whose leg was almost blood raw from ankle to thigh. It felt more like a war zone than a place where people worked. 

The impatient woman walked over near a large view portal and sat down on the grimy floor, waiting for them to join her. But the girls' stares were focussed out of the window to where their planet loomed in all its glory. The beautiful view that was ignored by most was marred with one tiny flaw. The dead bodies of those they were replacing had been jettisoned out into space, to float for eternity in the vacuum. One of them had been a child, the small body silently following the others past the glowing halo of the girl's planet. 

Silently they turned from the window and sat across from the woman. In a stern, clipped voice she began instructing them in their duties. Her all too frog-like eyes glared at them the whole time as from behind them the glow of the planet made her skin look more lime coloured than it already was. 

The youngest began crying again and received a slap for it. The woman had no time for this. She had seen too many young ones come through this ship. Taken from their families, never to see them again. Most died in service, either as examples to others or by taking their own life. Some simply disappeared. Only the strong survived and she was one of them. After all, to a child wasn't some life better than none at all? 

Her instructions filtered only in parts to the four girls sitting before her. Their minds were cast back only a few hours ago to when their lives were peaceful and none of this existed. 

~*~*~*~ 

_ It had only been a late study group; so late in fact, that they had been kicked out of the library. An exam the next day had got them in a panic and a loud argument had ensued as they walked through the grounds of the university. _

_ People flitted by them in ones or twos, waving if they knew them, smiling if their exams had already finished. From others they attracted strange looks, the result of talking too loud, something that always happened when they were together. _

_ Taking a shortcut through a not so well lit alley, they emerged out onto the great lawn of the campus. Busy by day and empty by night; or at least it seemed. They walked swiftly along the main path under the light of the lamps, oblivious to the darkness beyond. When they reached the middle of the park one of them glanced up and stopped. _

_ "What's wrong?" another asked turning around. "We didn't hit a nerve did we?" she asked grinning. _

_ "No…I just thought I saw something but I must have…been...wrong…" she trailed off her eyes growing wide. _

_ The others turned. Underneath the next lamp stood a squat man. His skin was scaly and coloured vomit green. _

_ "What the hell is that?" _

_ "Probably a prankster who gets his jollies off scaring people. Let's go another way." _

_ Turning again they made for a side path only to have another man step out of the shadows. This one was tall and broad shouldered and had ears like an elf. He grinned menacingly and moved faster than they could see to stand neck to nose with the tallest of their group. The girls behind her screamed and ran. That close they could see that what they had thought to be a costume was real. _

_ Too stunned to think the tall girl took a shaky step backward, not breaking eye contact with the impossibility before her. He kept grinning and it was the last thing she saw before darkness overcame her, her friends' screams echoing in her ears. _

~*~*~*~ 

Apart from the few roaming guards, they saw only other slaves those first few days joining them in the hard labour that even children were forced to endure. Several of the slaves cast the girls hate filled looks as the day passed even going as far as ruining their work, resulting in a whipping from the guard on duty. No explanation was given for this behaviour and because the girls were still wrestling with the idea of aliens actually existing, none was asked for. But far from the spitefulness of a few frustrated slaves and having to endure tiring work that went on for hours, the worst thing had to be witnessing the atrocities that were the whores. 

Most of them were mindless creatures that walked around in a daze or babbled incoherently. One had wandered into the mess hall that the girls were scrubbing and even though they had been warned about their erratic behaviour, they weren't prepared when she tried to wrestle the tall one to the floor, muttering things like, 'Take me now lord', 'I can show you a good time' and 'I'm not used. I'm not'. It had been the impatient woman that had rescued her, sending the whore wandering away down the corridor with a few sharp words. The pathetic girl disappeared around a corner talking to someone no one else could see. 

But these mindless creatures were not dangerous. It was those who had kept a degree of sanity and knew how to wield what little power they had that you had to be wary of. They were spiteful and vindictive always looking for a way to get themselves into favour with the higher-ranking officers. But mindless or not, it was always the pretty ones who held the greatest favour and even these changed from day to day.

Their first sight of a person who wasn't a slave or a guard came on their third night aboard the ship. The strain of the huge change in their lives had already taken its toll, their tired and dirt streaked faces making them look far beyond their years. They sat through yet another instruction session on the workings of the ships schedule staring blankly at their instructor. She was an extremely bored looking woman who resembled something close to a fish and spoke to them as if they were small children. Presently another, older woman shuffled over and led two of the girls away to their next duty session. The others were left to the struggle of remembering all the rules they had to follow, with the constant reminder that they would be followed by beatings or death if they didn't. 

As the two dark haired girls walked out one door, another opened. The fish lady fell silent causing the two remaining girls to glance up, suddenly realising that the low chatter that usually filed the room had died. Their teacher was staring fixedly at the floor. Slowly the two turned to see the newcomer. He stood there, towering over all the slaves, at least eight foot tall, his broad shoulders almost blocking all the light from the corridor outside. Long, black horns grew from either side of his ugly head, which looked as if his brain was going to explode out the top at any moment. 

The small beady eyes that had been scanning the room jumped to the two girls as they gasped. His purple face broke out in a menacing grin as he strode towards them, the other slaves scurrying to get out of his way. The two girls immediately turned their heads and stared fixedly at the floor as memories of what they had been told flashed vividly in their minds. They stiffened as they felt his presence behind them. 

"Well. Whadda you know. New meat." The younger suddenly found herself dangling by the back of her clothes, inches from his face. "You have an interesting colour of hair girl," he commented as he fingered the ends of her dirt covered, golden hair. "I bet it would look better spread across my bed." Her shaking body went still in horror, her grey eyes betraying her fear. He held her for a moment longer before tossing her to the side, muttering something that sounded like 'no fun'. A momentary glance was cast to the other girl before he moved on. 

She was unceremoniously pushed to the side as he reached forward and roughly grabbed the fish woman by the shoulder, yanking her towards him. She immediately began screaming and struggled vainly to get away. He grinned again and said: "You'll do." Gripping her wrist he pulled her across the floor. Still screaming she grabbed the frame of the doorway as they passed through, making him stop. Ripping her hands from the wall he hit her hard, causing a small trickle of blood to run from the corner of her mouth. "Save it for the bedroom, bitch." Grinning, he lent forward, licked the red liquid away and pulled her out of sight. 

As the door slid shut the room returned to what they were doing as if nothing had happened. The girl who had been pushed to the side stared wide eyed at the closed door for a moment before remembering her friend. Getting to her feet she made her way to where the blonde girl had fallen. She was unscathed from her brief flight having landed on a group of nearby slaves. They weren't so lucky as one limped away on a twisted ankle and another nursed a bruised shoulder. All of them glared at the two girls as the blonde shakily got to her feet. Retreating to a corner, they stayed hugging each other until the older woman came and summoned them to their duties. They never set eyes upon the fish woman again. 

Though shaken by this incident, none of the four were about to let it happen again. To avoid being beaten was simple in theory; do the work, make no mistakes and try not to piss people off. Not so easy in practice but it was feasible. To avoid being chosen by the men of Frieza's army, who sometimes chose a new slave instead of a whore, was the simple matter of becoming invisible; an impossibility. But since invisibility was not an option then they would do the next best thing.

They lived in filth. Well, as much as they could tolerate without being caked in it or be in danger of dying from some unknown alien disease. The four of them looked as plain as could be with the dirt smearing the colour of their skin and clothes. They wore their hair permanently pulled up into loose buns and allowed strands to pull loose, adding to their dishevelled look and adopted hunched poses that made them look feeble. 

When it dawned on the other slaves that the girls' appearance was less than satisfactory they began to hassle them. Most of the hassling consisted of name calling because the slaves were either too tired or couldn't be bothered forcing the girls to comply. They called them stupid because they risked death if Frieza or any of the high-ranked officers believed they had been seen by anyone of importance. 

The four agreed that that scenario was laughable. They rarely saw any of the higher ranker officers and had yet to lay eyes on Frieza himself. Besides it was better to be dirty than to be raped and abused by Frieza's men. So they kept silent and to themselves and did nothing to quell the other slave's apprehensions or change their opinions of them. 

As the days wore on the current slaves began to lose their hostility towards the 'new meat' but even though they were now treated somewhat civilly the four girls still did not speak to the other slaves. They avoided them for the most part but found good company in a few, allowing some of the inane chatter to wash away the pains of the day. It was also a good way of learning the right way to go about things on the ship; learn from others mistakes.

The inane chatter was good for one thing though. They learnt that the aliens were in the process of occupying their planet. It had not been 'purged' like most, which was apparently unusual because it had been found to hold substantial mineral deposits. This came as a relief to the girls as they new that when a planet was purged, all life was eradicated. On a planet million of miles away their families still lived and they were grateful but they understood that the open hostility they had encountered in the first few weeks had been from those who had no family left.


	3. Chapter 2

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan 

**Chapter 2: **

The months wore on. The light tan garments that had been too large to begin with hung loosely on them now. They were by no means starving but the backbreaking work and strange food was, as one girl put it during a bout of hysteria: 'the best weight loss program in the universe'.

Whenever they could they took the time to listen to the stories of the old man who they had met on their first day. They now knew him as Petak. He had been there the longest and was the eldest of any of the current slaves. Many did not like him; they believed that someone who had survived this long within Frieza's service must have some means of providing themselves with privileges, most likely through being a snitch. The girls did not believe this solely for the fact that he had stuck out his neck for them. But they could see how the others would come to that conclusion. Petak was the person in charge of delegating the duties and had to report every so often to the lower ranked guards. That and he had a room to himself. 

On days that they didn't feel so weary they would seat themselves behind the half-dozen or so slave children and just listen to him talk. They did not always hear what he said but the sound was soothing. On days that they were prepared to sit up and pay attention he refrained from telling mere stories and talked instead about things or certain people aboard the ship. None of it was pleasant and some of the children would become more distressed than usual. Only once had he stopped and spoken to them harshly. Saying that they must listen if they were to live this life. Inside the girls cringed, knowing somehow that he only spoke of these things for their benefit. 

~*~*~*~ 

"Hey TwoBlue!" At the shout a slave at the end of the line of scrubbers lifted her head. "Get over here!" Slowly the girl got up and shuffled over. She stopped before the two guards, her head bowed and eyes on the floor as was proper.

"What the hell is this?" the second guard asked. Taking in her dirt smeared clothes and face.

"This," replied the other guard, poking the girl hard in the shoulder, "is TwoBlue. She's gonna deliver our message for us." He reached down and unhooked a small package from the waist of his armor, then dangled it in front of her face. "Now you listen," he said slowly and loudly. "You take this package and go up to the mess hall, the mess hall got it? Then you stand and you wait for it to be collected, do not sit down do not wander. You come straight back when it's done. Understand?" She nodded slowly, not looking at him, waited for him to hand her the parcel then shuffled off down the corridor. They watched her go.

"Something wrong with her head?" the second asked. "That took you a month to say."

"Dunno. That's how these other wretches speak to her. Suppose she's slow or somethin'."

"Weird name."

"Yeah. Don't think it's real. Probably didn't want anyone to know what the real name of somethin' so ugly was. That's why I chose her."

"Speaks no evil huh?"

"Hell, she don't speak at all."

TwoBlue went slowly. In all likelihood this was dangerous so she was in no hurry to get there. It was just her luck that the idiots on this ship took silence for stupidity. Of course, being covered in dirt didn't help but then she didn't really want it to. If people thought she was disgusting and stupid then they'd leave her alone. She entered the corridor outside the mess hall. There was no one there. Sighing she went to the door and bowed her head as it opened. It was quiet and after a second she looked up, only to find someone staring at her.

She was so startled that she forgot to look away, until he frowned. Her eyes found the floor and she stood, waiting for him to punish her.

"Hmph. You bloody slaves get uglier every year. Have ya got the package?" She nodded. "Then get over here." She shuffled over.

"Looks just your type moptop." Another voice came from the side. Unable to help herself she glanced over.

"Shut yer mouth monkey or I'll beat ya again twice as hard." The man on the floor was huge by any standards. His black hair, had he been standing, would have fallen past his knees and what looked like a furry belt was wrapped around his waist. When he saw her looking at him he grinned ferally at her, his bloodied face showing bright white teeth and what she thought were fangs. She looked away. The man in front of her must be strong to have beaten him. From her short glimpse the one called Moptop had hardly been any taller than herself. "'Sides," he was saying. "I don't need to go looking for sheilas. They find their own way."

"What made you think I thought that it was a girl?"

Moptop growled and a muffled thump came from the ground. Then she felt him grab her chin and force her face upward. He was frowning and she thought it inanely stupid of herself to notice that his eyes were a dark green colour and in stark contrast to his red skin and white hair.

"Ugh. The monkey was right. You are a girl." Jeice sneered at her and watched as the fear in her blue eyes doubled. Smirking her pushed her away and she staggered back a few steps; it was only reflex that allowed her to catch the bag he threw to her. "Get out of here. Next time I won't be so lenient if you look at me." She turned and scurried away and as the door hissed closed behind her she heard him mutter: "Bloody hell. Now I have to get new gloves."

~*~*~*~

One evening, or at least the break that the girls had come to think of as evening, Petak came limping back into the common room of the slaves' quarters. The girls were huddled quietly in a corner, being ignored once again. They watched him slowly hobble across the room and collapse into a broken old chair. His eyes were clenched in pain as he lent over and began rubbing the lower half of his leg. The four pairs of quiet eyes watched him for a while before they turned back to their whispered conversation, which fell into silence and hand signals when anyone passed. 

The quietest of the four continued to watch him and after a moment she stood and walked over slowly to seat herself at Petak's feet. The other three watched them with curiosity. What was she doing? The old man gazed down at her a sad look on his wrinkled face, almost in a way a father would gaze at a daughter he had lost. She reached out one dirt-smeared hand and gently pushed his hands away from his leg. He frowned at her but to his surprise she gave him a small smile, which was only a momentary lifting of the corners of her mouth, and began to massage his tired leg with firm but gentle fingers. He watched her as she worked and soon the pain in his leg lessened to a dull ache.

"Why do you help me child?" he asked after a while. He fingers paused for a fraction but she just shrugged her shoulders and didn't look at him. "I had a daughter once. She was as old as you when I last saw her." He paused. "You are the one they call ThreeBrown?" Still the girl said nothing. "You are scared to be on this ship, little ThreeBrown?" She nodded slowly, still not looking at him. "It is good to be afraid, it will make you cautious but you should not let it grow into terror as many of those here do." She nodded again. He was silent for a while then asked: "Would you like to ask me a question?" The question startled her. She looked up at him and he saw her brown eyes flick to her friends. "If they want to know you can call them over." She looked up at him gratefully and made small beckoning movements with her hand. The other three soon joined them.

"What was it you wanted to know?" The four girls looked at each other then to the one called ThreeBrown. She pointed to Petak's head. "About me? You want to know about me?" The corners of her mouth lifted slightly again but she shook her head and moved closer to him; pointing at his neck and the plain white ring he wore around it. "You want to know about my collar?" She nodded eagerly. "It is a ki damper. Have you never seen one before?" They shook their heads. "Well you know what ki is." They shook their heads; all but the one called, he thought, FourGrey. The other three stared at her. "Why don't you explain to your friends?" he said smiling gently at her. Slowly she placed both hands over her chest then made a strong arm pose. He chuckled at the bewildered looks on her friend's faces. "Yes, that's right. It is your inner strength. Your energy. A ki damper prevents you from using it. On my planet I was considered a strong warrior but compared to those on this ship I am nothing. To you I would be just as frightening. Your species has such a low ki, it not that surprising that most of you have not heard of it." He glanced at ThreeBrown.

She was watching him, a calculating look on her dirt-streaked face. Suddenly she sat up straighter and pointed at him then herself and her friends. He looked confused so she tried again. She pointed at him again then herself and cupped her hands in front of her chest. His brow wrinkled. "You want me to teach you to use your ki?" She gave the same fleeting smile and nodded. He shook his head. "It is too dangerous. If anyone ever found out…" He paused. "But it has been so long since I have had a student." His eyes were wistful and as he looked into their pleading faces he knew he couldn't refuse. "It would keep you safer, if you were able to defend yourselves," he mused, trying to make it look as if they hadn't walked all over him. They nodded eagerly, their eyes shining brightly from their grubby faces and he had to fight the urge to smile at them.

Despite what the other slaves thought of these four he could see that there was intelligence behind those sad eyes. That and the fact that they had caught on so quickly to the workings of the ship showed that they had the strength needed to survive. He sighed. "If you are caught you are not to mention me." They nodded and later, while the other slaves slept, four human girls had their first instruction in the manipulation of ki.

~*~*~*~

As TwoBlue exited their quarters she almost tipped her basin of bloodied water on the floor as ThreeBrown walked into her. Glancing up and down the corridor she quickly hissed. "Watch it!" 

"Sorry," ThreeBrown muttered. "I have to run a message. How is she?" FourGrey had been late to duty the day previously and had been beaten. 

"Alive. If I had bandages to change the ones she's got, she'd be better." 

ThreeBrown looked at the basin, her face pale. "Is that all from her?" 

"Yeah." TwoBlue would have said more but another slave came along. ThreeBrown gave her a small wave and moved off.

ThreeBrown went as quickly as her deceptive shuffling gait would allow her down to engineering. The place was stuffy and she began wheezing long before she left. Finding her way back up had been the hard part. She knew that she was running behind schedule and in her panic must have made a wrong turn. She jumped at every little sound and constantly looked over her shoulder. TwoBlue had told them of her encounter in the mess hall and they figured between them that the two must have been Jeice, a member of the Ginyu Force and Radditz, a Saiya-jin, one of the most ruthless creatures in the universe. She was almost back to the slave's quarters when a hand reached out and roughly grabbed her wrist.

"Hello filthy." A grating voice said in her ear and the smell of alcohol wafted over her to the point that it almost made her vomit. The drunk dragged her backwards into a room, her heart thudding loudly in her chest. "I'm going to have some fun with you." She madly tried to twist out of his grip but he was too strong even with her month of training. His scouter blipped. "Hey, you shouldn't be able to do that." He hiccupped and sloppily whacked her across the face but it was still hard enough to leave a bruise. "Have to put you down now." He was almost singing the words. 

She was dragged through into another room and immediately recognized it to be the poolroom where some of the stronger warriors came to train and hone their underwater techniques. She looked fearfully up at the soldier. He grinned broadly down at her. "Don't like water do you?" She glanced down at the deep pool. He was going to throw her in? What an idiot, he thought she couldn't swim. Still she didn't want to get wet; it might wash some of the dirt away. He grabbed her neck roughly and held her out over the water as her hands clawed at the fingers pressed into her throat. "We don't need ugly things like you on this ship anyway. Fri*****hic*****eza might give me a promotion for this." 

ThreeBrown gasped as she fell and hit the surface. The cold water immediately soaked through her clothes, the heavily spun material dragging her down. She struck out for the surface but felt a pressure on her shoulder. The bastard was holding her down! She struggled wildly, and then in a flash of panic induced inspiration she summoned all her strength, grabbed his arm and used his off balanced position to pull him into the water with her. He let out a surprised yelp as he fell and his grip on her shoulder loosened. She immediately struck out into the water, swimming as fast as she could to get away from him. 

Surfacing for breath she heard him struggling in the water, calling for help at the top of his lungs. Strangely enough for her she felt no remorse as the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. So, the bastard couldn't swim. Well she wasn't about to go back and help him. Diving back under to drown out his cries she swam towards the far edge as quickly as she could. If she was found here…she shuddered and not from the coolness of the water. When she resurfaced his pathetic cries had stopped and she did not turn to see what had become of him. She grasped the edge of the pool, breathing heavily and shivering she wearily hoisted herself out. Swimming took muscles she had not used in a long time. 

Standing somewhat shakily she began to wring the water from her clothes. She couldn't leave a trail. The now dirty water dripped on to the floor and though the dirt did not wash completely off, the rivulets that dripped down her face and hands left light trails behind them, leaving her 'tan' with stripes. More strands of hair had come loose from her bun and stuck to her face and neck.

"What are you doing?"


	4. Chapter 3

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan 

**Chapter 3: **

"What are you doing?" 

ThreeBrown spun and the sight that greeted her eyes froze her bones. She had never laid eyes on him before but there was no mistaking who he was. Being so scared of the higher officers, the other slaves did not speak much about him and right now he was someone she really didn't want to meet. He was Zarbon. Frieza's trusted right-hand man. She backed away from him quickly, slipping on the wet floor and landing on her backside. Not taking her fear filled eyes off him she moved backwards on her hands and feet until she hit a wall and couldn't go any further. 

Zarbon watched her with some amusement. Her breathing had sky rocketed and she was in danger of hyperventilating. Frantically she pointed to the pool and then herself, shaking her head the whole time. He smirked and she paled but despite her recent impromptu swim, it went unnoticed because there was still sufficient dirt to hide her true colourings. 

"I saw what happened. He was an idiot," he took in her filthy state and raised a thin green eyebrow. "Though I'm not sure if he was wrong in trying to do away with you. Perhaps it would have been better if you both had drowned." He paused. She was shaking now. It was pathetic, he thought, though she undoubtedly knew that she was being disrespectful, she hadn't taken her eyes off him. She jumped at every little movement he made, hugged her knees as if they would protect her and bits of her hair hung in her eyes adding to her dishevelled appearance. "Get up." 

She shot to her feet, trembling. Hugging her arms across her body she now kept her head bowed and eyes down waiting for whatever fate he devised for her. 

He wrinkled his face in disgust as he saw the puddle of dirty water she stood in. "Get back to your quarters." She looked at him, startled. "Go!" he growled taking a step forward. "Before I finish what he started." Almost slipping in her haste she fled from the room, not caring if she received a beating for running in the halls. 

~*~*~*~ 

"You're sure about this?" 

"Yes Master Frieza. Our spies have found enough information for us to take out the whole rebel army." 

The wine washed side to side in the fine crystal glass as Frieza lent forward. He grinned. "So you have found their little hideaway I take it?" His red eyes flashed with malice. 

The man in front of him swallowed, his bulbous eyes spinning on the end of their stalks. "Y…yes Master Frieza." He turned to the console behind him and punched a few buttons. Several solar systems appeared on the screen. "This is SM-4," he said as he enhanced one system and focused on the fourth planet from the twin suns. "Classified fourth standard but underneath all that noxious gas is a solid surface. Apparently they have buried into it. Most of their main labs are situated here which is why scanning has been useless. The gases play havoc with the scanning process. This is the largest we know of but there are other similar set ups in both the Namek-sei system and in the unoccupied system of Dentar." 

"Do the Namek-jin or Shimat-jin know anything of this?" 

"They claim to have had no prior knowledge of the bases my Lord and doubled their tributes for the year to you as a gesture of goodwill." 

The youngest Lord of Tsiru-sei frowned. "We will believe them for now. Send out two squads to each base. Take the leaders back to Tsiru-sei for…questioning. Eradicate the rest." 

"As you wish Lord Frieza." The man scurried out of the room. 

Frieza smiled as he stared out into the blackness of space. The pesky little group who dared to call themselves rebels would soon be dealt with. Their actions against him and the rest of his race had never been effective but as his empire grew they had become more and more of a problem. They need to be wiped out before any of the stronger races under his control got it into their tiny little brains that it would be a good idea to join them, that life would be better without Tsiru-sei breathing down their necks. 

He grinned. He would destroy them all before he let that happen. 

~*~*~*~ 

A few days after the incident in the poolroom, ThreeBrown stopped jumping at every little sound she heard. Her fear over the repercussions of her behaviour faded when she was sure nothing was going to happen to her. She didn't tell her friends and they wondered what had happened to make her act this way. Her left eye had swollen badly so they concluded that she had been beaten for being to slow. But just as life had calmed back to its 'normal' state, Petak brought bad news.

The old man returned to the common room one afternoon his face haggard. He immediately sought out the four girls and sat down beside them. He took the hands of ThreeBrown in his own wrinkled ones and sighed heavily. 

"I have done you a great injustice little one and possibly to your friends as well." She stole a glance sideways at her friends and watched as their eyes slowly glazed over with fear. "They overheard me talking. It was foolish of me I know but this old man still has not learned to keep his mouth shut." He looked at her and saw mixed in with the fear, confusion. "Do you not understand child? They are coming for you." 

Having no way to ask who 'they' were in sign language, ThreeBrown was at a loss. Then, as if on cue, the door slid open and two guards stepped into the room. Immediately all eyes went to the floor and the room fell silent. 

"Don't try to run," the old man muttered. "It will only make things worse." He got slowly to his feet as the two guards approached.

"Well?" one asked as they neared. "Which one is it?" 

Petak slowly reached out and placed a hand on the girl's thin shoulder. 

"That's her?" the other asked, his voice full of scepticism. Petak nodded. The guard looked her up and down and sneered. "Come on then." She didn't move. "Are you deaf? Move!" he roared at her. She jumped and scrambled to her feet. Grabbing her roughly by the arms they hauled her from the room. Her friends watched dejectedly as she went and as the doors slid shut behind her, the slaves' conversation turned to a new topic; Threebrown's replacement. 

~*~*~*~ 

A door slammed and loud curses strained sensitive ears that could have heard them whispered in the next room. 

"Keep it down Radditz! Do you want to end up back in a regen-tank?" 

Radditz growled as he rounded the corner, glaring at the large bald man who had his feet propped on a small crate. Nappa grinned. 

"What's pulling on your tail now?" 

The longhaired Saiya-jin kicked a crate viciously, smashing it against a wall. "The same thing as always." 

"You still wasting your time with that? It's been what? Twenty-three years since the last transmission from his pod? He's probably dead." Nappa shrugged. 

"Yeah. But what if something happened to leave him stranded? What if he can't transmit and is just stuck there?" 

"He's dead boy. Face it." 

"He's my brother dammit!" 

Nappa raised an eyebrow. Even with all his years under Frieza, Radditz was still as headstrong as ever. His cocky mouth had gotten him into trouble with his Prince often enough and various other members of Frieza's army; Jeice being the latest. While not being sympathetic Nappa could understand the boy's frustration. Knowing that you were the last of your race wasn't the easiest thing to live with. 

"Have you found the planet yet?" 

"No. I just spent two hours going through system files. Nothing." 

"What was it called again?" 

"Chikyuu-sei. Classified third standard." Radditz sighed. "It's almost like the place doesn't exist." 

The big bald man got up. "It'll turn up eventually but when it does you'll be convincing Prince Vegeta to go on your own. I still think the brat'll be dead." 

~*~*~*~ 

The wind blew softly on Son Gokou's face as he watched the valley beneath him. He could see the small trail of smoke rise above the treetops as it left the chimney of his house. Pebbles rolled down the cliff beside him. Counting to three, he ducked and sat up in time to catch his son as he went sailing over the cliff edge. 

"Missed again, Gohan," he smiled brightly. 

Five-year-old Gohan laughed. "I'll never be as good as you Daddy." 

"Sure you will," he replied, sitting the boy on his shoulders. "You just need more practice. NIMBUS!" 

The small gold cloud zoomed into view and Gokou jumped down as it passed beneath. Catching them neatly, it sped off towards their home. 

ChiChi walked out to meet them as the little cloud came to a stop in front of the small house. 

"Gokou! Where have you been all day?" She stood, hands on hips, one of them gripping a wooden spoon. 

"We were up in the mountains. I was just giving Gohan some lessons." 

"Fighting lessons?" her eyes narrowed. "No son of mine is going to be a brainless fighter! He's going to be a great scholar and he needs to do his study!" 

Gokou took a step back. "I'm sorry ChiChi," he said, hand behind his head. "He'll study all day tomorrow. I promise!" 

"Good." She smiled. "We have a guest for dinner." 

Gokou let out a whoosh of air as she turned around. "Guest? Who?" he asked as he ducked through the doorway, careful not let Gohan hit his head. 

"Hey Gokou!" 

"Bulma! We haven't seen you since that get together at Master Roshi's." 

She laughed. "Yeah. I really should come and see you guys more but it's such a long way to come when you can't fly." 

"Well, we'd come and visit you too," ChiChi put in, "but Nimbus can't hold all of us and Gokou refuses to learn how to drive." She glared at him. 

"Huh?" Gokou looked up from where he'd been staring at the pot on the stove. 

ChiChi sighed. "Anyway, Bulma, what caused you to make the trip over today?" 

"Believe it or not I was kicked out of the house." 

"At your age? What did you do?" ChiChi asked, astonished. 

Bulma laughed. "I didn't do anything. Papa is having some top secret meeting thing that he didn't want me eavesdropping on. So he kicked me out." 

"As if you would do that!" 

"Would I ever!" Bulma grinned. "I bugged the whole house! If anything worth knowing happens I'll have it on tape!" 

ChiChi sighed. "Am I the only adult around here?" 

Gokou and Bulma looked at each other. "Yep." 

~*~*~*~ 

The guards shoved ThreeBrown down numerous corridors that she had never seen before. As they walked they made derogatory comments about having to burn their gloves after they were done with her. After a while they came to a halt outside a door in a section of the ship that was obviously better looked after. The lighting didn't flicker and wasn't dim, the walls and floor were clean and as far as she could tell, everything worked properly. 

Part of her fear had been quelled enough by her curiosity to allow her to look around as they entered a room. A stool stood on its own in a corner; they marched her over, sat her down roughly, turned and left. Bewildered she sat there and took in her surroundings. Someone important lived here. There were carpets on the floor, high backed chairs with cushions upon them and a large computer console on an expensive looking wood desk in the opposite corner. ThreeBrown was well aware that she looked very out of place in the clean room. The hissing sound of another door opening caused her to turn to see who had summoned her.

"You? You're the one the old man claimed was better than hours in a rejuve-tank?" 

She jerked backwards and fell off the stool at the sight of Zarbon in the doorway. Standing quickly she adopted her usual hunched pose, careful to keep her eyes down. 

Zarbon stepped into the room regarding her quietly. Strange that he should come across the same ragged girl in such a short space of time. Although, she did look somewhat different when she wasn't soaking wet. Perhaps it was because her clothes were dry and didn't cling to her? As he walked towards her he wondered idly if he would have been able to tell she was a girl if they hadn't. She certainly didn't look like one now, more a tall pile of rags. 

"Well? Is that who you are?" he asked again, irritated. "The reliever of that old man's aches and pains?" 

She nodded. 

Stopping his advance on her he turned and moved to sit in one of the numerous chairs in the room, his cape sweeping behind him. Looking back at her he frowned; she hadn't moved from her place near the overturned stool. 

"I won't bite girl but it doesn't mean I can't," he growled at her. "Get over here and do what you were summoned for. I don't want you here any longer than is necessary." 

Hastily she grabbed her stool and moved to seat herself near him. As he held out his arm he acted as if he had not been the one to summon her and that this was a great inconvenience for him. Trying to ignore the fact that he was a murderer of millions and that he could quite easily reach over and snap her neck if he felt like it, she quietly took a deep breath and stretched out her hands. The thought of touching this man let alone being alone in the same room as him sent shudders through her body. She could barely stop her hands from shaking. Keeping her eyes solely fixed on his arm she sent her thoughts elsewhere, trying to imagine what she could be doing now back at home. It didn't help much.

As her fingers brushed his arm he suddenly jerked it away. Startled she cried out and fell backwards off the stool, covering her face with her arms. Peering up at him through her good eye as he towered over her, she cringed in fear at the look upon his face. His eyes narrowed as he sneered in disgust. He stretched out his arm, the palm of his hand facing her. Her eye widened and she knew what was coming; she had seen it happen to others numerous times before. 

"You dare to touch me?" he asked with a deadly softness. "Even if you were not covered in filth, I do not allow slaves to touch me." 

The light of a ki ball slowly began to form in his palm. Glaring down at her he saw that eye was glued to the glowing orb, he could read the fear there easily but there was something else there as well. He watched as she bit her bottom lip and a single tear fell from her eye. He ignored it. She looked worried. No. It was…confusion? His brow furrowed. Why would she be confused? Surely she knew what was happening, unless…had she only been doing what was asked of her? Was that the skill she possessed? Touch? Slowly he let the ki ball dissipate and lowered his arm. 

"Get up," he said curtly to the cowering girl on the floor. Shaking, she stood slowly keeping her head bowed. "Look at me," he commanded. 

Hesitantly she raised her eyes to his. Standing this close to her he took in for the first time the severity of the injury to her face. Even through all the dirt he could see that the bruising covered the majority of her cheek and that swelling forced her to be temporarily blinded in her right eye. She brought up one dirty hand and wiped away the tear on her face, smearing more dirt across her injury. He turned his lip up in disgust and she looked away. 

"Show me how you treated the old man." 

She nodded. Shaking, she pointed to her lower leg then placed her fingers on her arm and made a squeezing motion. He said nothing and she watched as his feet moved away from her. A door slid open.

Lifting her head she stared after him in bewilderment. What the hell was he doing? She drew in a shuddering breath and stopped struggling to stand. She grabbed the stool as she collapsed to the floor and rested her forehead against it. Wrapping her trembling arms around herself she shut her eyes and attempted to control her breathing. Oh god, he almost…he almost…he almost killed her. She'd seen the ki ball that was going to do it and she'd wanted so desperately to run but she couldn't, she couldn't take her eyes from the pretty light that was going to kill her. Choking, she bit back a sob. 

When Zarbon came back into the room the girl was still shuddering on the floor, her hands gripping the legs of the stool as if they were a lifeline. She didn't notice him until he stood next to her. Her head turned slightly and he could imagine the look of panic on her face as she realised. She shot to her feet but almost collapsed again, so she seated herself upon the stool once more, head bowed and trembling hands in her lap.

He seated himself in the chair next to her and held out his arm. It was now wrapped in material but looked nothing like anything she had ever seen. If she hadn't been so terrified of him she would have laughed. He was so vain. 

"Well? Get on with it then," he snapped. She jumped at his words but reached out and shakily, began her work. 


	5. Chapter 4

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan 

**Chapter 4:**

A shadow moved. In the darkened building it would absorb the moonlight that filtered in through open doorways. Silently it moved down the corridor, then down the stairs cursing as it misjudged the last step and went sprawling on its face. Freezing, it waited. No sound of anyone approaching was heard so it picked itself off the floor and moved toward a closed door with light shining from underneath it. Slowly it slid the door open and stepped inside. The room's only occupant sat oblivious, intent on the data that was scrolling across the console screen in front of it. 

Bulma screamed when she felt the touch on the back of her neck. She whirled around in her chair ready to clock whoever was behind her. Her fist was caught and she found herself staring into a pair of black eyes. Neither said a word for a minute. Then he grinned. Her blue eyes narrowed. 

"Yamcha, you ass! You scared the shit out of me!" 

The scarred man crouched down and sat back on his haunches to look at her. "Sorry babe but you're such an easy target." 

Bulma glared and willed her heart to go back to a less life threatening pace. "What are you doing here anyway? Sneaking around in the middle of the night like a thief." 

Yamcha cocked his head to look at her. "Babe," he said, shaking his head, "I am a thief." 

Bulma rolled her eyes. He could be so simple sometimes. "That's not what I meant and you know it." She turned back to her console, trying to remember where she had been interrupted. 

"Whatcha up to anyway?" Yamcha asked leaning over her shoulder. 

"I'm trying to figure out what my father was up to the other day. He had some sort of secret meeting and he wouldn't let me in on it." 

"Babe, that's why it was secret. If you knew, then half your friends would as well, then it would just spread like one of those exponitty sums." 

"Exponential equation?" She huffed. She wasn't that bad. 

Deciding to ignore him for the next few minutes, Bulma sifted through the computer files trying to remember where she put the hidden camera recordings so that her dad wouldn't find them. 

Yamcha dragged a chair over, the harsh sound loud in the usually quiet room. As she sorted files he lent over her shoulder, only half taking in the scrolling of data on the screen. He grew bored after a while and let his eyes wander around the room. 

Blueprints and layouts lay everywhere, exposed wires from half pulled apart machines were scattered in tangled clumps. Anyone else might have thought that this basement room was used to throw junk into and the Briefs would have been offended. Bulma and her father were meticulous about the things they kept because running the richest science and technology company on the planet meant you had to be. Unfortunately they were both of the opinion that the robot they pulled apart five years ago could turn out to be useful any second now, to fix a light switch or a toaster. Mrs. Briefs – Yamcha never could remember her first name – was more 'normal' than her husband and daughter, in a ditzy kind of way. She really didn't care about the junk so long as it stayed out of her living room. 

He turned back to the screen and jerked back in surprise. "Babe, I thought you said this was a meeting. Does your dad have a thing for fancy dress?" 

Bulma frowned. "I don't know," she answered as she turned up the volume. 

"You are in the best position to aid us doctor," the man with long red hair and ebony skin was saying. "The tyrant Frieza knows little or nothing about this planet and the chance that he will discover you is remote." 

Dr. Briefs frowned. "Why should I trust you? I have my own sources of information and they do not tell me the best news about you." He stood and paced the room. "You have been affiliating with the Maiyosh-jin, known supporters of the Cold Empire. This doesn't make you the greatest confidant. How I am I to know that you are not setting us up? If I accept this deal I place my whole planet in the path of danger. If I decline, then Chikyuu-sei remains useless to Frieza and therefore he would have no reason to come here." 

"But come here he will. It matters not if the planet is worth anything but whether its inhabitants pledge their loyalty to him," the other man replied. "Besides," he added, leaning back in his chair, "not all Maiyosh-jin wish to follow the same path as their leaders." 

"This is true doctor," put in a short man with large bulbous eyes. "It is the same on many other planets that have sworn loyalty to Frieza. Do you really think that the lower classes have a say in what their rulers do? Did you ever think that some may have pledged loyalty just to stop Frieza from destroying them?" 

Dr. Briefs turned, a pained expression on his face. "But you can't guarantee that we will be safe. I had news only the other day about the invasion of a planet that was previously unknown of on the outskirts of the universe. We are much closer to the centre. I have family, my daughter…what would happen to her?" 

The red haired man stood and placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "My daughter and son gave their lives for this cause after our planet was taken. Ask yourself doctor, what would your daughter do if she was faced with the same situation?" 

"She would throw herself into the cause, mind, body and soul," he answered without hesitating. 

"We have managed to procure the confidence of the Namek-jin since our last meeting," the bulbous eye man said, all business again. "They have agreed to offer some sanctuary on a remote planet. It is not ideal but it will suffice if the need be. We already have our people from the Dentar system evacuating there." 

"Dentar was compromised?" Dr Briefs asked, surprised. "How? That was one of our safest facilities." 

"Spies. We have our suspicions and those people are being moved to less…secret places. Our best hope would be to have a base upon Namek-sei itself. Unfortunately the Namek-jin have reservations about revealing the location of their planet." 

"But we know where it is." 

"No. We know where the system is. The planet itself is hidden and can only be found with exact coordinates." He smiled strangely. "No one really knows what a Namek-jin looks like." 

"What? Then how do you know that this is not a trick?" 

"Because they have been trading with other planets for thousands and thousands of years. They are an old race and little is known about them. They have space travel and technology but do not use it often." 

Dr. Briefs turned so that his face was hidden from the camera. "If I accept this deal will my people be able to take refuge on this planet?" 

"Yes and you will have whatever you need at your disposal. You are most important to the rebels doctor." 

A slight nod of the head was all Dr. Briefs needed to show his consent. The rest of the party stood silently to leave. As the last person in line left the room, the red haired man turned back to Bulma's father. 

"You know why we came to you and not your leaders, don't you doctor?" 

"I had wondered." 

The man bent and retrieved a small mewling cat from the floor. The black of its fur blended with the man's skin perfectly. 

"You have intelligence doctor. That was the first reason. The second was that your leaders would have undoubtedly let your people know. That would have caused immeasurable problems for us. We can exist solely because we are hard to find and only a select few know about us. Later that will change but for now it is essential we stay that way." 

Dr. Briefs nodded. 

"We will protect you as best we can." The man turned to leave. 

"I am sorry about your son and daughter." 

The red haired man didn't turn. "They died fighting for what they believe. We all will some day." Then he stepped through the door and was gone. 

Bulma hit the pause button and the scene froze, leaving Dr. Briefs alone on the screen. She and Yamcha sat in silence for a few moments. 

"Babe, was that real?" 

"I-I don't know." She didn't really see what she just saw did she? There hadn't really been aliens sitting on her mother's good dining room furniture, had there? "I-I need to talk to papa," she said absently, pushing away from the console. 

Yamcha watched her go. He didn't bother trying to follow her. Sighing, he shut the console down and headed back upstairs. It was too much for his head, so right about now crashing on the nearest couch until Bulma returned seemed the best course of action. 

~*~*~*~ 

The wild upsweep of black hair against the glow of the planet outside was the only indication Nappa had that his prince was in the dark room. He refrained from activating the lights, knowing that it would most likely only turn Vegeta's anger on himself. 

"What is it Nappa?" bit a harsh voice from the darkness. 

Nappa swallowed, he hated bringing news like this to his prince. "Lord Frieza has summoned you sire." 

There was a derisive snort. "Does he think I'm just going to jump because he says so? Let him wait." 

"But my Prince, he will not be pleased." 

"Since when do you care about what the freak thinks?" 

"I don't, your highness. I only remember the last time when you disobeyed him." 

"Are you telling me that I am wrong?" Vegeta's voice had a sharp edge to it, warning the bigger man to consider his next words carefully. 

"No your highness, I only think for your safety. Your royal father…" 

"Yes, yes I know. He bid you take care of me. I am no longer a child Nappa and even then I did not require your help. I require no help." Nappa breathed a soft sigh of relief as he heard Vegeta stand. The last time the young Saiya-jin prince had defied Frieza he had spent two days in a rejuve-tank. The image of it was permanently burnt into the big man's memory. The Prince lying bloodied and bruised, mere inches from death as Frieza stood over him and laughed. Nappa waited until Vegeta had moved past him then followed him out into the brighter corridor. 

Vegeta was barely more than half Nappa's enormous height, even though he was a full-grown man. As they strode down the corridor Nappa began - and not for the first time – to wonder why, since his royal parents had been quite tall themselves. The shouting of insults from a side passage broke his reverie and he growled. 

"Leave it Nappa," Vegeta bit harshly, "we don't have the time." 

Nappa scowled at his prince's back, thankful that the quick-tempered man couldn't see it. 

Radditz was waiting for them at the entrance to Frieza's audience chamber. He saluted Vegeta as he passed, the younger man acknowledging him with only a slight nod of the head. The longhaired man fell in behind them as they entered the room. 

Frieza ignored them as they entered. He usually did, to remind them how unimportant they were. He was in his floating chair by the large view-portal, seemingly staring out into the stars but probably wondering what else he could do to make them uncomfortable. 

When he finally turned the Tsiru-jin Lord gazed at them a small, malicious smile upon his face. 

"Ah, Vegeta. I'm so pleased you decided to arrive promptly this time. I would so hate for this to end up as our last little meeting did." 

"Yes, Lord Frieza." 

"I have a little job for you monkeys," he said floating over to a table to fetch his wine. "My sources indicate a small planet that is being used for rebel doings…" 

~*~*~*~ 

Mrs. Briefs removed her ear and then the glass from the wall. Stupid rumours. She couldn't hear a thing that was going on in the next room. She wasn't usually such a snoop but the look on her daughter's face and the yelling that had ensued after she'd gone into her father's study made getting caught with her ear against the wall worth it. 

Brushing blonde hair behind her ears she lent back against the wall. Contrary to what most people thought she wasn't a complete airhead. She knew her husband was doing something dangerous; he always did manage to get himself caught up in those sorts of things. He only did it to help others of course, which was why she never said anything but she knew it was only his intelligence that kept him from being eliminated. That and the fact that he had built the most sophisticated security system known to man. Bulma didn't realise exactly how safe she had been kept all these years, just like Yamcha thought that no-one knew he had crept into the compound an hour ago. Mrs. Briefs knew all this but she didn't want to. She wished she didn't know and was oblivious to all of it but she couldn't, so she acted like she didn't and sometimes she would forget, just for a moment or two. 

A footstep on the stair broke her concentration. 

"Yamcha!" she exclaimed. "We didn't know you'd dropped in! You must be hungry! Come on, I'll fix you some lunch!" 

The startled Yamcha blinked. "Oh, no I'm okay. I was just looking for Bulma." 

"Don't be silly!" she said, taking his arm. "Young men need their sustenance. Besides Bulma's probably absorbed in some new invention." She pulled him down another corridor towards the kitchen. "How's that little cat friend of yours?" 

~*~*~*~ 

Inside Dr. Briefs' study the good doctor scowled at his daughter. She glared defiantly back. 

"I can't believe you Bulma. Eavesdropping. I expected better from you." 

"Better? You're supplying ships and weapons to a war! You're doing things that are going to get you killed and you haven't even told mama!" Her blue eyes flashed as she gestured wildly, knocking a glass from the desk. 

It bounced harmlessly on the plush carpet and rolled beneath a chair. Dr. Briefs sighed as he got up to retrieve it. 

"I would have told you both eventually. I should have known that you would find out sooner rather than later. You have to understand though," he said, rolling the glass between his hands, "that one day Frieza will come here. People have been fighting him since before you were born, since before I was born. I have seen what he does to people; living proof of his sadistic nature and no matter how wrong you think it is to support a war, I have to do this to prevent anything happening to this planet or to you. People need my help and I'm going to give it to them." He turned back to Bulma. "No matter how much you try to change my mind." 

"How many people are a part of this?" 

"More than can be counted but every person only knows a few of the others." 

Bulma bowed her head. "Papa, what if you get caught?" she asked quietly. 

"That won't happen Bulma." 

"Why?" Her eyes rose to his. "Because they promised you? How do you know that you can trust them? You asked them that yourself." 

"Do you trust me Bulma?" 

"What? Of course I do." 

"Then let me do what I must and I will let you do the same." 

"Fine," she huffed. "When do I start?" 

"What?" Dr. Briefs stared as he sank back into his desk chair. 

"When do I start? If my father says to these people that his daughter would throw herself into the cause, mind, body and soul, then I can't let him look like a liar can I?" she smiled slightly. 

"Sometimes I dislike that you take after me so much," Dr. Briefs answered, shaking his head. 

"Yeah, well I didn't get to choose the genes did I? If I did I would have made myself more beautiful." 

Dr. Briefs just smiled. 

~*~*~*~ 

The two guards sneered as they marched along the corridor. ThreeBrown wondered why they had sent two to escort her back to the common room when one would have been more than enough. At least, that's where her mind wandered between thanking whatever god was listening for letting her see another day. Catching her feet in her baggy slave-wear, she stumbled, falling against one of them. He jumped back in disgust and kicked out at her. Catching the blow in the stomach she fell to her knees. 

"Get up, lazy bitch!" 

Gasping for air she tried to raise herself to her feet. When she failed, he hit her across the back. He head snapped back as her chin bounced off the ground. She was dimly aware of the coppery taste of blood in her mouth when another figure appeared in the side of her vision. 

"What're you doing here?" she heard the guard bark. There was a moment of silence before he continued. "Take her." Then two sets of footsteps walked away from her. 

Gentle hands touched her shoulders and she jerked away. 

"Hush, Three, it's only me." 

ThreeBrown looked up into a pair of grey eyes. "Four," she muttered. "How did you know I'd be here?" 

"I didn't. You were lucky, that's all." 

ThreeBrown snorted as she stood shakily with FourGrey's help. "Lucky. Yeah, that's the word I'd use." Together they made their way down the dim corridor. By the time they reached the slave's quarters she was breathing normally again. 

She received varying looks of amazement when they entered, virtually unchanged than from when she had left. The small cut on her chin was nothing when most had expected her not to return. Quickly passing their inquisitive stares the two girls departed their company to the relative peace of their room, ignoring Petak as he tried to call them over. 

The others were still awake, waiting to find out what had happened but exhaustion took over and ThreeBrown collapsed onto her bunk without uttering a word. 


	6. Chapter 5

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan 

**Chapter 5:**

Being a rebel was more trouble than it was worth Radditz mused as he watched the scuttling people below him. Casually he tossed another ball of ki at their fleeing backs.

His face was impassive as the smoke cleared, revealing nothing more than an empty crater, as if the lives that had been burning and vibrant a minute ago were not now cold and dead by his hand. His scouter beeped.

"Radditz!" Vegeta's voice cracked over the bad connection. Radditz presumed he was on the other side of the planet somewhere. "Have you finished yet?"

"Yes my Prince. The last of them paid their respects just a few moments ago."

"Good. Meet us back at the pods so we can get the hell off this mud-ball Frieza dared to call a 'rebel' base."

Radditz grinned. He knew what Vegeta meant. The pathetic creatures had been no more of a challenge than a child's game of toss-stone. He turned and sped away, skimming low over the clipped fields of the planet. Here and there craters were smoking still as houses slowly burned their way towards the ground. If he hadn't had been admiring his handiwork he might have seen the glint of metal as it protruded from the small clump of bushes. As it was, if his scouter hadn't warned him the beam that the contraption fired might have caused him some serious damage. Growling and holding his hand to the hole in his shoulder, Radditz turned slowly. There was a faint cry of horror that was only just audible to his sensitive Saiya-jin ears. He growled once more and the men concealed in the low scrub bushes fled, their farmers' robes flapping around them.

~*~*~*~

The lead man's feet flew over the cultivated fields, heading for the large mud brick house in the next paddock. He could hear the others behind him as they fell one by one beneath the Saiya-jin's hand. Heart pounding he reached the door and slammed it closed behind him. He only had a few moments at the most.

~*~*~*~

This was more fun, Radditz thought, as he picked off the terrified men. One dashed off on an angle and he followed. Just as he was about to grab the man, the farmer showed a surprising agility. He ducked and turned away from the large Saiya-jin's grasp, heading towards the trees and away from the farmstead. Radditz grinned as he bided his time, letting the man think he might just make it to the tree line. The man literally bounced off him as he appeared in his path. He never hit the ground though, as a large surge of Radditz's ki burnt him away to ash.

As he brushed off the ash that landed on him, Radditz picked up the faint sound of talking on the breeze. His head swivelled around to glare at the farmhouse. Not bothering with manners he blasted the door in from where he stood, taking a great portion of the wall with it.

The last farmer stared back at him in horror. The small communications device he held in his hand squawked tinnily, and then he seemed to recover himself and yelled a few words in his native language before reaching forward and doing something Radditz couldn't see. He shot forward, crushing the receiver and the man's hand in his fist. The farmer screamed.

"Who were you talking to?" Radditz growled.

The man shook his head, his face pale and drawn.

"Tell me!" he growled, shaking the man.

The man closed his eyes and shook his head. Growling Radditz blasted him through the wall behind. He was not known for having patience. Glancing around the small room he spotted the main transmitter and dusted off the rubble around it. One look at the read-out told him it would not help. The machine was so old that it was still set by hand. No doubt the man had flicked the dial to read something else before he got there.

Annoyed with himself for his folly Radditz returned to the low scrub bushes. Ripping them up roots and all he tossed them aside and picked up the shiny contraption that lay beneath them. He frowned. This flimsy little thing had put a hole in his shoulder. Vegeta would want to see this.

~*~*~*~

Vegeta turned the shiny metal tube over in his hands again.

"This weak looking thing put a hole through your shoulder?"

Radditz nodded. "Yes my Prince. Clean through." He paused. "These people were farmers. Where in the seven hells did they get a piece of machinery like that?"

"More to the point," Vegeta added, "is who gave it to them? There is nowhere on this planet with the capacity to rend metal this fine."

Nappa frowned. "If they had these things why was there not more resistance?"

"Most likely because they did not have time to organise themselves." Vegeta smirked but it faded quickly. "It concerns me though; imagine the damage they may have been able to do if they had. There is no question about their demise but the two of you may have come away with more than a hole in your shoulder." He smirked again as he watched Radditz wind a cloth around his bleeding wound.

"What if there are more of these things?" Nappa asked.

"Then they'll burn with the rest of the planet. This one," Vegeta tossed it from hand to hand, "I think I will keep. It will be interesting to see who made it."

Radditz snorted. "It's probably just another production line prototype from the rebel bases."

Vegeta growled at his underling's condescending tone. "No. This is different from anything else the rebels have thrown at Frieza before. In fact," he grinned widely, "whoever did this may well turn out to be a sharp thorn in Frieza's side."

~*~*~*~

Dodoria knelt in front of his lord. "The monkey's have sent their report Lord Frieza."

Frieza didn't turn but his tail moved slightly, slapping the floor in sickening thuds. Dodoria watched as the Tsiru-jin lifted his glass and sipped the red wine daintily. "And?" Frieza's soft voice asked.

"They had no complications," Dodoria answered standing. "They are on their way back as we speak."

"Good. I have had enough incompetence for one day."

Dodoria nodded curtly and left his master to his own thoughts. Outside, he made his way to the bridge.

"How long?" he barked at the crew on duty.

"E.T.A six hours," answered one. "The pods show no damage but Radditz's is indicating that he's injured." He tapped a few keys. "Nothing serious. He won't need a tank."

"Where's Zarbon?"

"Lord Zarbon had an audience with Master Frieza earlier. It was him who told Master Frieza about the loss of the newest Ginyu." The man gave a wry smile. "He was carried back to his quarters sometime later."

"Why not to a tank?"

"Master Frieza's orders, sir."

"Untouchables were sent to take care of him?"

"No sir. Lord Zarbon was still coherent enough to refuse them."

A grotesque eyebrow rose. "Really? What kind of an idiot is he?"

The man shrugged. "Apparently he was muttering something about rumours."

Dodoria smiled nastily for a moment then frowned again. "Get Ginyu on the line. Tell him I'll meet him in the officer's mess in two clicks to discuss the replacement for…whatever his name was."

~*~*~*~

"Guldo."

"No way! That four-eyed, diseased kumquat? He can hardly waddle, let alone pose!"

"What's waddle?" asked Recoome.

The other two looked at him, rolled their eyes and resumed the conversation.

Jeice propped his elbows on the table and lent his head in his hands. "Who was the idiot that came up with that one?"

"Apparently it was the pink blob. But the Captain agreed with him so the deal was sealed." Burter sighed. "We would have been better off with Vegeta."

The liquid Jeice was drinking made a hasty exit through his nose. "Vegeta!" he spluttered. "What bonehead put that idea in your head?"

"At least Vegeta has actual legs."

"And nowhere near the fighting power required. Besides, do you really want a monkey in the ranks of the Ginyus?"

Burter took a sideways glance at Recoome, who was holding a spoon backward and trying to feed himself soup. "At least he'd make for better conversation."

Jeice sighed. "You never know, we might get lucky. Maybe Guldo will turn out to have a degree in engineering or something."

"Yeah, and the Captain is a virgin."

"What's a virgin?"

~*~*~*~

The lab was busy for this time of night. Especially for a lab that was located several floors underground and supposedly secret. Bulma glanced around. The man with ebony skin, the one from the video, was watching her. Again. She had been introduced to him yesterday. He called himself Hontij and she had quite liked him. Now he was just creeping her out. She glared at him. He grinned back at her, his white teeth standing out in stark contrast to his dark skin. Huffing, she turned back to her work.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard, the display in front of her showing multiple screens of scrolling data. It was her baby. An idea she'd had while watching Yamcha train with Gokou.

"Interesting."

She almost swallowed her tongue. Coughing slightly she turned around to see Hontij grinning down at her. What was it with people and scaring her lately? Turning back to the console she hit a button and wiped the screen.

"Yes it is isn't it?" she said coolly. "Is there something I could help you with?"

His grin tapered down into a soft smile. "No, daughter of my friend, I simply wish to express my gratitude at your willingness to help."

Bulma was slightly taken aback. "Well of course."

"The good doctor tells me it was you who worked the bugs out of our last effort."

She nodded. "The frequency was wrong. By rasing it we were able to concentrate the beam more accurately."

He smiled again in that soft knowing way, turned and walked away. Bulma stared after him. Okay, so he wasn't creepy, he was weird. She watched him leave the room before sighing heavily and recalling the data to her screen.

Some time later she was humming away, totally immersed in her work. The background noise had faded away to a gentle hum. Quietly she was impressed with herself; usually she was fidgeting in her seat trying her damnedest not to yell at the other workers. Pulling up the almost finished blueprints for the latest idea her genius had conceived she grinned to herself and stretching, decided to get a cup of coffee.

To her great disappointment, the room was empty. The soft humming noise was the new generators they had installed yesterday, gradually working themselves up to full power. She glanced over at the only clock in the room. The glowing digital read-out told her it was just past three am. No wonder the place was empty, she thought, even aliens have to sleep sometime.

Yawning, she wandered out of the lab and took the 30-second elevator trip to the surface. Not surprisingly there were a few people still wandering around. A lot of them had large eyes. Bulma guessed that they were probably nocturnal races – they weren't in the lab because the lighting hurt their sensitive retinas. They nodded amiably to her as she passed on her way to the house.

Her hand had just fallen on the doorhandle when she was grabbed forcefully from behind. A hand clamped over her mouth before she had the right of mind to scream but she did it anyway as she felt her feet leave the floor and watched her home disappear beneath her.

~*~*~*~

Cracking an eye open ChiChi watched as her husband quietly pulled himself out of bed. He sat with his back to her his head sitting in his hands.

"Gokou?" she asked uncertainly.

He jerked upright at the sound of her voice but he didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry ChiChi. I didn't mean to wake you."

The tone of his voice told her enough.

"What's wrong? Has something happened?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure. It's probably nothing." He stood. "I'm going to check on Gohan. I'll be back in a minute."

ChiChi watched as his broad back disappeared through the door of their room. She frowned slightly. Something _was_ wrong. He never checked on Gohan. In fact he hardly ever woke in the middle of the night. Soft padding footsteps announced his return. He sat back down on the bed but made no move to show that he was going back to sleep. ChiChi sat up and put her arms around him.

"Gokou," she said softly, "nothing has ever woken you up in the middle of the night before. Are you sure that everything is okay?"

His hand came up and touched her hair. "No. There's something going on. In the last couple of days there has been a lot more people able to use ki than before."

ChiChi eyebrows creased in worry. She had never seen her husband so serious before.

"Is it bad?"

He sighed. "That's just it. They don't feel bad."

"Where are they?"

He was silent for a moment. "Over near West City somewhere."

ChiChi felt herself relax. "It probably just has something to do with Bulma, or her father. Why don't you go over there in the morning and find out?"

"You think?"

ChiChi pulled him back down onto the bed. "I do. You'll see; it will probably be nothing."

Gokou's arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer. "I hope so," he whispered into her hair.


	7. Chapter 6

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 6:**

Bulma was cold. As she pummelled fruitlessly on the thick arm of her kidnapper she mentally cursed all ki-using beings for not being able to remember that she couldn't do the ki-shield thing. Her long blue hair whipped in her eyes and she could just make out the ground speeding along beneath her. She tried bitting his hand again.

"Try that one more time and I'll drop you," Piccolo growled at her.

The wind prevented her from hearing him properly but his tone told her enough. She stopped struggling.

Presently the ground rose up to meet them as Piccolo turned his flight path over the mountains. By the time they landed Bulma felt like she was turning blue.

He dropped her roughly to the ground and she scrabbled away from him as best she could on her numbed legs.

He grabbed her shoulder. "Sit," he said tersely, forcing her down onto a fallen tree trunk.

She glared up at him as he crossed his arms over his chest and the wind caught the end of his long while cape. "What in hell do you want with me?" she spat. "If you were looking for a fight with Gokou, you'd be better off kidnapping ChiChi."

"You think I don't know that?" he asked, somehow giving the impression of a raised eyebrow without having any. "As much as I would love to pound Gokou into the ground, he is not what concerns me at the minute."

"Oh? And what does?"

"You and your little 'corporation'."

Bulma stuck her nose in the air, forcing herself into a false sense of bravado. "You can kill me before I give anything about my company away!"

Piccolo glared down at her. "Your mind truly works along one track doesn't it? Think! I don't need your stupid technology."

She frowned for a minute before her eyes widened in realisation. "How did you know? I had the complex completely shielded!"

"From eyes. Whoever those people are they're absolutely hopeless at hiding their ki."

"Ki shielding? You can do that?"

Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "If I knew how to find Gokou without resorting to a phone book, you would think one or the other would be dead by now. Wouldn't you?"

A slight grin tugged at the corners of Bulma's mouth.

"What is so amusing?"

"You don't know how to use a phone directory do you?" she snickered.

Piccolo closed his eyes and counted slowly to ten. For him to kill the woman before she told him what he wanted would be pointless. He opened his eyes. "You are on a ledge that has a fifty metre drop," he said to the deserted clearing. "How far do you think you will get?" He smirked to himself. "Even if you do throw yourself off the edge?"

The sudden roar of an engine wiped the smirk from his face. "Damn!"

~*~*~*~

The doctor looked up from his papers as the machine beeped for the second time in five minutes. Sighing, he pushed himself up from his desk to check on the rejuvenation tanks in the room. One of the occupants must be stirring but not healed yet, otherwise the machine would simply drain out. 

The readout on the console screen brought about a raised eyebrow. Quickly the doctor went to the closest machine and pressed a series of buttons. The occupant inside stirred and opened their eyes. 

"Welcome back, my lord," the doctor said, watching his patient carefully. "Do you remember what happened?" 

Zarbon's long hair floated loose in the healing waters and moved softly when he nodded his head weakly. 

"You are an extremely lucky young man. If some of the Untouchables had not found you, you would have bled to death." 

Zarbon raised a hand to the glass and pushed weakly. When nothing happened he looked the doctor in the eye and attempted to frown. 

The doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid not, my Lord. You still require at least another four hours before you will even be able to walk. I will increase the tank's concentration so you will rest easily." He turned to the controls and reprogrammed it, then watched as Zarbon's eyes slowly drifted shut. The doctor sighed and let his eyes travel slowly over the other man. 

It wasn't fair that it was his shift when Frieza's former favourite had been brought in. Zarbon had made it clear to him several times that he was not interested in anything that went beyond a platonic relationship, whether it was male, female or otherwise. And silently, the doctor thought that it was such a waste. 

The alarm on the next machine went off, startling the doctor from his thoughts. The hatch popped open and Radditz stepped out, his tail flicking wildly to rid itself of the water. He stalked over to a bench and grabbed a towel. 

The doctor went back to his desk and sighed. 

~*~*~*~ 

She hadn't gotten far. But then, she hadn't expected to. Bulma popped the hatched on her air car and whipped the prototype laser out from under the dash. A large green hand came up from underneath the car and crushed the barrel before she even had a chance to pull the trigger. 

"You are annoying," Piccolo growled as he floated up next to the hovering car. 

"And you have just ruined my only prototype." She glared at him. 

He glared right back. 

Birds chirped in the background. 

Finally Bulma sighed. "You're not going to leave me alone until I tell you what's going on are you?" 

"No." 

"If…if I let you come back to Capsule Corp. you have to agree to a couple of things," she said slowly. 

"Not that this is a case of 'letting' but I'm listening." 

Bulma stood up in the car to her full five foot five. "Okay. One: if Gokou comes around, there will be no trying to kill each other. Two: you are not to try to take over the world." 

Piccolo growled under his breath. "Anything else your majesty?" 

"Yeah. Three: no trying to kill me either." She held her breath. 

"Fine. Agreed." 

"Really?" she asked, surprised. 

He glared at her. 

"Okay, okay." She looked over to the horizon, where the sky was beginning to lighten. "We better get back. Everyone's probably worried stupid." She paused. "That is, if they've noticed I'm gone." 

~*~*~*~ 

Frieza paced in his outer rooms. His tailed thumped against the floor in agitation. He was pissed for two reasons. One: He'd had multiple reports of some new technology sweeping through the rebel ranks, technology that actually seemed to be able to hurt his soldiers and two: number one was pissing him off enough to make him pace. 

Even though his mastery of the entire universe was so sure that it was just about written in stone, the youngest Lord of Tsiru-sei frequently became agitated by the amount of time it was taking. Not that his family were any help on that matter. Coola, having a whole army of his own was content enough to just wander around aimlessly, plundering and blowing up any planet that wasn't already claimed by Frieza. He was having so much fun that half the western quadrant was currently burning.

Fun. It was something that Frieza only allowed himself on occasion. Having seen that too much of a good time would turn him into something that would resemble his father. He shuddered at the thought. Did his father know what the others of his race said about him? Both Frieza and Coola had been approached more than once on the business of ending the current monarchs reign. Yet, as much as both sons loathed their indulgent and lazy father, neither wanted the responsibility of having to rule over their own vicious race.

Frieza shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of his useless family. The more pressing matter of the rebels should be dealt with first. Sending the Ginyus was out of the question; by the time they returned from their current mission the rebel activity in the area would have long died out and moved into hiding somewhere else. He frowned. Until the pesky little creatures were all dead he could not move on with his plans.

His tail thumped the floor once more. The new weapons they had, increased the chances of them actually defending some part of their territory. Whether it was valuable or not, mattered little to him but the fact that they were still able to call it theirs was.

A comm. station beeped suddenly, reminding the Tsiru-jin of his impending journey planet-side. His tail flicked out and smashed the unit before he turned and stalked out of the room.

~*~*~*~

Yamcha was beside himself. He'd woken every person he could find at Capsule Corp., including some he wasn't sure could really be classified as people, and not one of them had seen Bulma for the last two hours. 

He went to her room – no note. He went to the lab – no note. He went to the kitchen – no note. He went to the lounge – and panicked. 

Thankfully twenty minutes ago Gokou had turned up. Not that he was too much help. Apart from telling Yamcha that he was sure Bulma was fine the bigger man had just sat outside on the patio and watched the sky. 

The sun had been up for an hour and Yamcha had been methodically wearing down the living room carpet when he heard Gokou call, "Hey Bulma!" 

He dashed outside to see Bulma's air car touch down on her back lawn. Without thinking he jumped over the railing, fell two stories, dashed to the door, ripped it off its hinges before she could open it and pulled her into a giant bear hug. 

"It's nice to know someone missed me," she said giggling. 

"Missed you? Babe, I was worried sick." 

Yamcha sighed in relief to feel her in his arms again. Things were usually crazy around the blue haired beauty but ever since she'd taken on whatever this project of hers was, things had been a lot weirder than usual. 

"As much as this scene is so terribly endearing, I'd rather hear what's going on so I can get out of here." 

Yamcha spun at the sound of the deep voice behind him. At the sight of the caped and turbaned figure he pushed Bulma back and stood in front of her. 

Piccolo fought not to roll his eyes. He glanced over at Gokou, who was still standing calmly on the grass behind the happy couple. _At least he knows how to spot a threat_. Piccolo's eyes went back to Yamcha as he heard Bulma start on an explanation, though she sounded extremely annoyed. Yamcha apparently forgot him then as he rounded on his girlfriend and the two proceeded to have an argument. This time he did roll his eyes. 

"Are they always like this?" Piccolo asked, shooting a look at Gokou. 

His archrival looked surprised at the question. "No," Gokou answered amiably, "only when they're together." 

~*~*~*~ 

There was a sudden shift in the air of the room. A beam of light hit the wall through the only window and slowly began to spread across the room. OneBlack glanced up from her work. Several other slaves frowned at her from the small circle they sat in. The tall girl stared out the window towards the glow of a distant planet before a sharp whack on the shoulder from a passing senior slave turned her back to her work. 

She grasped the needle tightly between her numb fingers and returned to patching the damaged body suit in her lap. As the needle passed through the thin but very warm fabric it drew the ragged edges of the rip together seamlessly. This particular suit had been torn in battle, she could tell. Not that scorched edges like this didn't occur from training but there wasn't usually this much blood. 

OneBlack strayed further from the slave common room than her friends. She was the strongest of the four of them physically and was often called away to help shift cargo and other odds and ends. Despite this more demanding physical labour, she was the least tired of the four and was hardly ever beaten. 

She faltered in her work again as her hand rose to her right eye. TwoBlue had said they could take the bandages off tonight. OneBlack frowned; it had been almost two weeks since they'd wrapped it and it still hurt. Absently she rubbed it with the heel of her palm, wincing as it just made the pain worse. _Stupid bastard_, she thought. _And he thought it was just the greatest joke_. 

She went back to her sewing, her thoughts lost on the arsehole that hurt her. In her minds eye she could see his large, bulbous, blue scaly head. She ripped the needle through the fabric viciously. _I'll get 'Lieutenant' Kui for that one day._ Realising that she had begun to sew crookedly she forced herself to calm down. It would do no good to loose her cool now. 

Movement outside caught her attention. Two of the small metal spacecrafts called pods shot out from the side of the ship, heading planet side. A moment later a larger cruiser appeared from the stern and slowly began to follow them. OneBlack grinned inside. 

Frieza was off ship again. That meant tonight was training again. She looked around for Petak. He was nowhere to be seen but she had no doubt that he would organise as many training sessions as he could under the lax security the ship was under while Frieza was away. In her anticipation OneBlack could feel her growing ki flare to life inside her. She smirked. Wait until she showed the others she worked out how to make it glow in her hand. 

"Lazy bitch!" 

This time the slap struck her across the face. She fell backward on the hard metal floor, her head throbbing from the pain in her eye. Someone grabbed her by the front of her grubby shirt. 

"Get back to work, you idiotic creature! Do you want us all punished for your stupidity? Just because that snitch, Petak, favours you doesn't mean you can slack off and leave the rest of us to be punished for it!" 

The man slapped her again and stalked off. _The rest of you to be punished?_ OneBlack thought as she struggled to clear her throbbing head. _What the hell do they think happens to the four of us every day?_


	8. Chapter 7

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 7:**

After the initial and sceptical testing of the new lasers, the rebel community went into overdrive. Through Hontij's various sources, the praise and offers of support for the new technology poured in. Bulma and her father, as well as the varied assortment of aliens who were trained in the area, set to work producing bigger, better and all around more useful things to supply to the scattered rebel groups. 

Bulma's latest idea had caused something of a fuss. 

"This isn't something that you can just pick up and use," Bulma tried explaining for the tenth time. "It has to be configured and reconfigured with every little change." 

Hontij shook his head. "Bulma, I understand what you are telling me but I cannot allow this request." 

"Why not?" she replied hotly, her blue eyes flashing. "I created it, why can't I over see its set-up?" She watched as the dark skinned man squirmed and sighed. "Does my father have anything to do with this?" she asked.

His eyes flicked to hers momentarily. "Well…yes and no."

"What's the no part?"

"Your male friend has expressed his displeasure as well."

Bulma's eyes narrowed. "Yamcha? He thinks he has the balls to get away with this?" she muttered to herself. "Oooh. When I get my hands on him…" Her hands balled into fists.

Hontij smiled. "The ship leaves for Yotemu-sei in two hours." 

~*~*~*~ 

She looked down at her hands. The fingernails were broken and bloody in places, the rest of her long hands caked in grime. They looked like the hands of a sixty year old, right down to the shaking. She grasped them tightly, willing them to stop but it only made the shaking worse. It wasn't fear anymore; her body was beyond worrying about that, now she shook from fatigue. 

In the last three days she had had but five hours rest. She was already losing sleep time due to the lessons she and the others were receiving from Petak and in hindsight she had been a fool saying no when the old man had insisted she stop for a while. Now with the constant summoning from Lord Zarbon to attend his aches and pains she was lucky if she even found the time to lie down. 

ThreeBrown sat in her Lord's rooms now, awaiting him on her stool. The room became unfocused for a moment and she shook her head to clear her eyes. Her vision tilted crazily before righting itself and she wondered for a moment where she was. Then the door slid open and her Lord was standing there. She rose and bowed but he strode past, ignoring her, so she sat back down, thankful for the few extra moments rest. 

When he emerged from his inner rooms he went straight to his chair. She stood, pulled her stool over and reached down for the clean cloth she had draped over one rung. Slowly she held it out to him. His eyes lifted to her hands. 

"Not today," he said, his voice unusually soft, but he took the cloth from her none the less. She stayed still as he sat there seemingly entranced by the simple material, then he shifted, sitting on the edge of his chair. He draped the cloth over one arm of the chair and began to roll down the top of the left leg of his thigh high boots. 

ThreeBrown's eyes widened as the smooth expanse of blue leg was exposed to her vision. Bruises marked the almost flawless skin and to her eyes were spaced far too evenly. They looked too much like fingerprints. Movement broke her thoughts as he wrapped his leg in the cloth then lent back in the chair. Her head swum and she paused. 

"Get on with it." 

Nodding absently, she placed her shaking hands on either side of his leg applying a slight amount of pressure. ThreeBrown felt muscles spasm slightly beneath the cloth and out of the corner of her still healing eye she saw his fist curl. Fear welled up inside her but she continued with her work. 

Zarbon was tired. Ever since he'd climbed out of that tank he'd been run off his feet. The amount of loose ends he had had to tidy since the emergence of this latest rebel uprising was astounding. He sighed. No matter what the doctors said, using the tanks never left him rested afterward and the only rest he'd allowed himself were the times when he summoned the salve. 

His eyes drifted shut. The slave's hands felt good today. His leg still ached from the little mishap he'd had earlier with Frieza. It really wasn't his week. Surprisingly enough he had noticed the look in the slave's eyes at the bruises their master had left. Not that she knew that Frieza had done it but she had recognised the pattern for what it was. Perhaps she wasn't as stupid as he had thought. 

He dozed, letting his mind trace the pattern of her hands drifting over his leg. For someone so crude her touch was light, applying more pressure only where it was needed. She had strong fingers. He felt her gently place her whole palm against both sides of his leg and rub in a different motion to before. Then the pleasant sensation stopped. The release of pressure as her hands left his leg woke him from his dozing state. He glared at her. 

She averted her eyes, grubby clumps of hair falling into her face and focused instead at a spot somewhere on the floor over near the wall. He raised an eyebrow and, as if sensing his mood, she bit her lip. 

"Get on with your work," he said tersely. 

Her eyes flicked back at his leg before she took a deep, shuddering breath and shook her head. Anger welled up inside him. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he growled, leaning forward. She cringed. "Is this work beneath you, slave?" he mocked as he looked down at his leg. "Are you too far above me in your filth covered…" he stopped. 

The slave was still turned away from him, shaking from the anger she had heard in his voice. 

"Leave," he said softly. 

She did. 

~*~*~*~ 

ThreeBrown reached the slave common room and stood outside gasping for breath. For the second time since she had met him she'd thrown caution to the wind and ran as fast as she could to get away from him. She grabbed at the wall as her head spun again, tripping the lock on the door. As the door slid open the roar of noise that hit her seemed abnormally loud. She stood on the threshold for a moment to gather her bearings, and then stepped inside. When no voices immediately called for her, her feet automatically turned towards the sleeping quarters. 

No one barked a terse command as she disappeared down the dingy corridor and entered the room she shared with the others. She found herself sitting down on her hard bunk. Looking at the monitor in the wall near the door she could see that there was another scheduled work session in ten minutes. 

ThreeBrown sighed. Perhaps just having a quite moment to herself might make things easier, and maybe she would skip the practice session tonight. Yes, then she could think straight again and not have this god forsaken headache.

~*~*~*~

It wasn't that she was ungrateful. If she thought about it, it was almost endearing in a way. Yet she was still pissed off.

Bulma watched the small pinpoints of light in the distance. The one she knew of as 'home' had long since been lost in the billions of identical looking stars. Hontij had told her that they would only jump into hyper-speed after they had left the system. After that she would have nothing but white to stare at.

A grunt from the bed behind her caused her to jump, startling her in the quiet of the room. She glared at Yamcha's comatose form. _My first trip into space and he has to spoil it by coming with me!_ Granted he'd done it to protect her but that didn't stop her from being angry at his crashing of her very first _real_ adventure. _None of that stuff with the dragonballs really counted. Hell, I didn't even leave the mainland. And just what did we get out of that? A pair of panties and…Yamcha._ She stopped mid-thought. Her quest for the perfect boyfriend had been put on hold when she met him and he rid himself of his girl phobia with her. She sighed. He was endearing all right; when he wasn't being overly possessive and clingy.

She checked her watch and remembered she had a meeting with Hontij and the rest of the crew. Silently she slipped out of her room and made her way toward the bridge.

The motley crew – it was the only way she could describe them – reminded her of something out of 'Treasure Island'. At least one of them had a peg leg of some sort, a parrot-ish creature sat upon the shoulder of another and one had some sort of metal revolving eye. She smiled sweetly at them.

Hontij, who was by far the most 'normal' of the group smiled back and gestured her to take the empty seat. "I trust you and your male friend have settled in nicely?"

"Yeah, I bet they 'settled in' all right," the one with the eye sniggered.

Bulma glared at him as the others laughed at his joke.

"Please," Hontij began, "can we leave the vulgarities until we are out of earshot? I would think that we are paying you enough for that."

There were some mutterings, that apparently meant, yes.

As the meeting began in earnest, Bulma zoned out. Every now and then Hontij would introduce someone who wasn't as vulgar, who usually turned out not to be crewmember, and she would force her brain to think of the correct response. Hontij would just have to fill her in on the rest later. _Next time I'm flying in style_, she thought, _my ship is definitely going to have a stereo system. And a coffee maker._

~*~*~*~

A sudden noise penetrated the haze of her mind. _What's going on? Who's yelling? They're going to get beaten if they don't shut up_. ThreeBrown groggily sat up, her fists clenching in the sheets to support herself. _Sheets? Oh shit no_.

A lower guard burst into the room, the hallway behind him crowded with curious slaves. With a face like thunder he grabbed her by her greasy hair and dragged her from the room. Tears of pain and fear streamed down her face as he pulled her into the common room and tossed her into the middle of the floor. Salves scattered every which way. 

"Right you lot!" he yelled to the onlooking room. "Girlie here decided that she was too good to join the rest of you scum for the cleaning duties today. Who says I make an example of her?" 

Several people cheered loudly. The terrified girl got to her feet, only to be brought down again by the lashing end of an electro-whip. With tears running down her face and trembling she turned her face upward. 

The guard stood above her, grinning. He placed a booted foot on the middle of her back and forced her down to the ground. The whip came down. 

She screamed. 

~*~*~*~ 

Bulma fumbled the capsule in her pocket as she watched the landing deck come closer and closer. Yamcha stood beside her, his eyes almost popping out of his head as he took in the incredible sight of the sprawling alien city. Silently Bulma hoped her new customers would be as impressed with her device as Yamcha was with their buildings. If this first sell didn't go well, then she'd just be demoralized for the rest of the places they had to visit. 

It had taken them a week to reach this place. Yotemu-sei, Hontij had called it. It was the closest, neutral place near Chikyuu-sei that some of the rebel leaders had been able to get to. And from what Hontij had said, many of them were disappointed that it was not her father who had decided to come. 

"Bulma-san and honoured friend Yamcha," Hontij appeared behind them. Bulma silently thanked Kami that he'd stopped referring to Yamcha as her 'male friend'. "I have just been informed that several of the rebel leaders have been unforeseeably delayed." 

"Delayed?" Bulma asked, tearing her view from the glittering city. 

"I'm afraid so. This does mean that we will have to wait for them." His teeth glinted as he smiled broadly at them. "Happily, Yotemu-sei's capital has many things to interest travellers. I'm sure that the two of you will enjoy exploring it." 

Yamcha's face lit up in joy. "You bet." 

"Do they have a museum?" Bulma asked. 

Hontij smiled. "One of the largest in the galaxy." 

Yamcha groaned. 

~*~*~*~ 

Nappa found Radditz down in the loading bay, a place his fellow Saiya-jin hung out because no one else ever went down there. 

"Hey, brat! Guess what?" 

Radditz growled at the older man. "What?" 

"Apparently that rebel master-tech has been sighted." 

"And? I care about this how?" 

Nappa sat heavily on a crate. "Don't want revenge for the hole in your shoulder?" 

"Not worth it," Radditz snorted. 

"Not even if I told you the ship reportedly came from Chikyuu-sei?" 

The longhaired Saiya-jin almost fell off his crate in shock. "You what?" he yelled. 

Several of the nearby slaves jumped at his outburst, causing more noise as a stack of supplies tumbled over and spilt across the floor. 

Nappa grinned. "Knew you'd like that." He sobered. "But unless Ginyu asks questions first before he blows the planet to smithereens, you'll probably never find out where it is." 

Radditz groaned. "The Ginyu's? They couldn't organize themselves out of a paper bag." The young man put his head in his hands as a slave came over and retrieved a tin of something that had rolled near his foot. 

Nappa sighed. "There is one thing you could do." 

"What?" asked Radditz from underneath his mane of hair. 

"You won't like it." 

"Nothing could make me more depressed than I already am." 

"Not even suggesting that you tell Frieza about baby bro?" 

Radditz looked up at him from underneath a large lock of hair. "I've been wondering for a while if you were a bit crazy. Now I know that you are completely INSANE!" He leapt up, knocking Nappa to the floor and pinning him. "The bastard's going to kill us all eventually and you want me to go and tell him that we've been keeping a surviving member of our race a secret from him for," he paused, "twenty three years?" 

Nappa nodded as best he could from underneath the younger Saiya-jin's grip. 

Radditz looked at him incredulously. "I was hoping that you were joking." He got off the bigger man and kicked out viciously at a crate. It went flying into a slave, knocking them off their feet. 

"You've got two days before the Ginyu's get to Yotemu-sei. What else is going to get Frieza to stop them from blowing up the planet?" Nappa rubbed his neck, where red marks were beginning to appear. "How else are you going to be able to find out where Chikyuu-sei is? The only people who know will be gone." 

"He'll just destroy Chikyuu-sei anyway," Radditz answered, his back to the older man. 

"Yeah but if you can convince Vegeta to ask him nicely…" 

"Terrific, so first I get beaten up by our Prince for keeping secrets, then beaten again for asking a favour, then if Vegeta actually agrees, I'll get beaten for getting him beaten. Wonderful plan." 

Nappa scowled. "You don't have to be sarcastic." 

"I'm humouring you because you. Are. Insane." 

"It's the only chance you've got." 

Radditz turned and looked at Nappa who was still seated on the floor. His eyes travelled over the rest of the room. The slave he had hit had gotten up and was slowly limping away, refusing the aid of a dirtier slave who tried to help it. 

He watched them leave. "I'll think about it." 

**Author's note:**

adbzfan2K03 - thanks 0-0' that has to be the most reviews I've received from anybody. And no you don't sound like an ass kisser.

Dark Promise - I'm rating stars now? I'm glad you like it and I hope you keep reading.


	9. Chapter 8

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan 

**Chapter 8: **

They say in space no one can hear you scream. The Ginyu's thought this was a farce. If no one could hear you scream then your torturer wasn't trying hard enough. 

Recoome sat at the mess table explaining this very animatedly to an extremely patient Untouchable, who nodded her head every now and then. Jeice and Burter watched from the doorway as, for the second time in as many minutes, Recoome gestured wildly and hit the Untouchable across the face. The woman flew from her chair and into the wall. Recoome looked horrified as he went to pick her up but she brushed away his hand and standing, politely excused herself and wobbled out of the room. 

"Why does she put up with him?" Burter asked as Recoome returned to his seat and began mumbling to himself. 

Jeice shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe she has a thing for big softheaded idiots. I just think its funny that he still panics every time he hits her. If Frieza hasn't punished him for it by now you'd think he'd realise that nothing's going to happen." 

Burter scowled. "Yeah. If anyone else hit her or any of the rest they'd be dead before you could blink." 

They turned from their team member and walked back towards the bridge. As they entered they were bathed in the soft glow of the planet outside. 

"How long do we have to sit here for anyway?" Jeice asked. 

"Captain said until they leave." Burter punched a few controls and a readout appeared on the console before him. "Apparently Frieza changed the orders from destroy to monitor. Doesn't say why." 

"'Why' is none of your business." 

The two Ginyu's turned to see their captain stride into the room. 

"Yeah, well sorry for being curious but this sitting here thing is boring," Jeice muttered. 

Ginyu whacked him, hard. "Watch your mouth smart arse and get down to the training room and spar with Guldo. He needs to fine-tune those skills of his." 

Rubbing his face, Jeice left, Burter trailing after him. 

"You shouldn't do that you know." 

"Fuck it. I'll say what I want. We both know the only reason he's being such an arsehole is because there aren't any girls to bed on this tin ship." 

Burter stopped walking. "That's our captain you're talking about." 

Jeice continued on heedless. "Yeah, well, that doesn't mean I have to respect him. Just that I have to do what he says." 

"That kind of talk could get you a beating from Frieza." 

Jeice stopped. "Frieza isn't around to hear it and it's not like anyone going to run and tell him." 

There was silence in the hall. 

Jeice turned around slowly. "Is it, Burter?" 

The tall blue lizard-humanoid met his friend's glare with one of his own. "I'm just saying be careful is all." 

"Yeah right." Jeice's dark green eyes narrowed. "Go keep, the Captain, company. I don't need help training the frog." 

Burter seemed to pause for a moment before turning and heading back towards the bridge. Jeice watched until he was out of sight then sped off in the opposite direction. He didn't pause as he reached the training rooms, knocking the door of its tracks and releasing the largest ki blast he could. 

The brilliant ball of light bounced around the room for five minutes until it finally dissipated. Jeice stood still the whole time and watched. When the last of the light had faded away, Guldo came up behind him. 

"Give us a bit of warning next time. You almost took my head off." He paused. "What's wrong with you?" 

"Stress," the red-skinned Ginyu answered and walked out. 

~*~*~*~ 

ChiChi tapped her fingers impatiently against her arm. For the fifth time in as many minutes she looked up at the clock hanging above the window. Across the table, five-year-old Gohan watched her silently. 

Ten minutes later, there was a muffled thump outside the door. ChiChi's fingers immediately picked up their pace. 

The kitchen door creaked open, letting a stray beam of moonlight shoot across the floor. Gokou's head peeped cautiously around the doorjamb. His eyes were drawn to the rhythmic tapping of his wife's fingers, the only sound in the house. 

He grinned sheepishly and stepped into the doorway. 

"Hi ChiChi, uh…" 

ChiChi glared. 

"I…er…sorry I'm late. Training ran over…" He sensed this had been the wrong thing to say, as her fingers became a blur. "Uh…Tien said that Yamcha called. There's going to be trouble, ChiChi, big trouble. I've got to help." 

"And helping means that you stay out and miss dinner three nights running does it?" she asked icily. 

Inside, Gokou sighed. If she was talking it meant that she was calming down. "I'm sorry ChiChi. I promise that I'll stay home tomorrow and do anything you say." 

She glared at him. "Sit down. I'm putting Gohan to bed." Silently she picked up the young boy and stalked off down the darkened passageway. Gokou closed the door behind him and sat down. ChiChi returned a few moments later and sat across from him. 

"I know that you like fighting. You always have. I know that you want to continue but we have a little boy now. You need to show some responsibility." 

"But…" 

ChiChi held up a finger. 

"I want you to tell me what's been going on. Why you've been so jumpy and what happened over at Bulma's the other day." 

Gokou looked down at the table. "Bulma said I couldn't tell anyone." 

"Not even your own wife?" 

He cringed. "Especially not you," he said softly. 

Despite trying to stay angry with him, ChiChi felt her mouth drop open. _Bulma said that? About me?_ ChiChi's eyes narrowed. She was going to have some serious words with the other woman the next time she saw her. 

"Tell me," she said. 

~*~*~*~ 

As the small public transport craft left the city centre, Bulma gazed wistfully out the window. Two days they'd had to wait for the rebel leaders to arrive, only to have them sneer down their noses at her as she showed them her idea. Not even as she'd demonstrated the shields power did they acknowledge that it was a piece of ingenious work. It had irked her and then she'd gotten angry. It had gone downhill from there. 

Now she and Yamcha were heading back towards the hotel to pack for the journey home while Hontij did his best to repair the damage done by her cutting remarks. Idly she played with the control for her robots, setting them to have her rooms cleaned and packed before they even stepped foot inside the foyer. 

Another thing done wrong. The hotel staff hated the small metallic servants. They felt it was an insult to the good hardworking nature of the hotel. She had thought it surprising at the time, seeing as most things, the public transport system in particular, were automated. 

As they stepped out of the small car, Hontij walked out to meet them. Bulma and Yamcha stared in surprise. 

"I caught a zoom," he said in way of explanation at their looks. "We are ready to leave. Your bags have already been taken to the ship." 

Not even bothering to slake her curiosity and find out what exactly a 'zoom' was, Bulma simply nodded and stepped back into the car. Hontij joined them. 

"I felt it was better that we leave as soon as possible." 

"Did I cause that much damage?" Bulma asked quietly. 

Hontij sighed. "No, but in times like this it is possible for those who are unwanted to simply disappear without a trace. No matter which side they are on." He smiled gently. "Best if that doesn't happen to you, even if you do think that the leaders are, what was it? 'Old doddering fools without even half a brain between them'?" 

Bulma smiled slightly and felt Yamcha squeeze her waist in encouragement. "I was harsh." 

"You were right. They need the technology you can bring and until they accept that you may call them what ever you wish." The red haired man glanced out the window. "We have stayed longer than is safe in any count. I will make sure the delay does not occur next time." 

~*~*~*~ 

Zarbon tapped his fingers impatiently against the arm of his chair. The console screen in front of him glowed softly as he glared at it. A message flashed on the screen. A recorded message of Captain Ginyu appeared on screen. Zarbon's scowl faded as he listened. Finally, something was going right. The sources on Yotemu-sei had given the Ginyu's the location of the rebel meeting that was rumoured to be taking place and now the Ginyu's were in orbit, waiting to track one of the unknown rebel parties back to their planet. 

Zarbon sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Hopefully the Ginyu's would clear this up quickly and then he could go back to having a decent amount of sleep each day. 

The hissing of the door announced somebodies arrival. He turned in his chair, to see the slave in the doorway. His eyes narrowed as he sat there and watched her tremble in the doorway. Somehow he had managed to forget that he had summoned her. Standing, he began to walk towards her, a small ball of ki forming in his hand. As useful as she might have been, there was no force under any sun that would let her live to spread the tale of her last visit. 

"Move into the room, slave." 

She did. As she looked up to take a step, her eye caught the glow of the ki ball and she froze. The doors slid closed behind her. 

Something in the way she stood made him stop short. The ki ball sat in his palm, momentarily forgotten. It wasn't her. How he knew that, he wasn't sure, because if it wasn't then she was an extremely good replica. All dirt looks the same after all. 

She hadn't moved from her trembling position in the doorway so he walked to her, letting the ball of ki flow back into his hand. The slave cringed away from him as he approached. His frowned deepened. It _wasn't_ her. Cringing was something that he had finally weeded out the other one because she had done it so often that it began to irk him. Interesting. There was more then one. He looked at her closely, examining the messily tied back mop of hair that the top of her head presented him with. Were those streaks of red, he could see? 

"Who are you?" he growled. 

She said nothing. Just like the other slave she simply shook her head. He repressed the urge to sigh out loud. 

"Where is the other slave?" 

She trembled and shook her head again, then seemed to stop and think for a moment before pretending to hit herself on the back. 

"Punished?" 

She nodded, trembling. 

He sneered down at her in annoyance, deciding that he might as well find a replacement. "Are you able to do what she does?" 

The slave shook her head and shrugged. 

He scowled again. "How long until she is able to continue her work?" He smirked. "Unless of course, she is dead?" 

The slave shuddered but gripped her arms around herself and shrugged again. He was tempted to strike her, for the absolute lack of anything that resembled dignity. 

He made a derisive noise and stalked away from her. "Get out of here you useless thing. Next time I send for her, send _her_ and no one else. Consider yourself fortunate." 

Her head came up in time to watch him disappear into his sleeping chambers. Silently TwoBlue left the room. As the door slid closed behind her she fought not to break into a run, to put as much distance between herself and Lord Zarbon in as little time possible. 

~*~*~*~

Vegeta looked down on his subjects and sighed. Radditz was sprawled on the floor in front of him, having just taken his seventh consecutive beating for yesterday's revelation. Nappa sat against the far wall. Not for the first time did Vegeta wonder why he had to be cursed with these two. Why couldn't the only other survivors of his planet be competent?

Vegeta crouched near Radditz's bleeding body. "Frieza has called a halt to the destruction of Yotemu-sei, soldier. As you knew he would." He stood and pushed Radditz with the toe of his boot, rolling the bigger man onto his back. "You should be thankful that Frieza recognises stupidity when he sees it." He growled softly. "Because going behind my back is the most idiotic thing you have ever done."

"Brother…" Radditz managed to choke out.

Vegeta scowled. "He's probably dead. If the inhabitants of the planet are still living, then he failed his mission."

On the floor, Radditz managed to crack open one eye to gaze at his Prince. Then he nodded slowly.

Inside, Vegeta wasn't quite sure what he had said was true. Something told him that the younger brother of the only man he could call 'friend' was still living. It was possible, though unlikely, that the child had not destroyed but simply overtaken this 'Chikyuu-sei'. Perhaps the whole planet was under Saiya-jin rule. A smirk tried to fight its way on to his face. If that was so, then all the inhabitants belonged to him and he would kill this 'Kakarott' for not contacting them sooner.

~*~*~*~

TwoBlue slipped back along a dimly lit corridor and into the sleeping chambers she shared with the other three. The two occupants looked up in alarm at the intrusion, before relaxing. Their dirt encrusted expressions creased into concern when they saw the heavy breathing of their friend. Two Blue squeezed past them to sit on one of the bottom bunks opposite. It was a tight fit. FourGrey almost had to step out of the room to let her pass.

When they had rearranged themselves, the shorter girl turned back to tending her patient.

ThreeBrown was lying on her back on the bottom of the other bunk. She propped herself up on her elbows. "What happened?" she asked through clenched teeth, as FourGrey unwrapped the bandages on her feet.

TwoBlue shrugged. "He threatened and almost killed me. You know, everyday stuff." Her shanking hands belied the nonchalant tone of her words.

Three brown flopped back down on the hard bunk. "I'm sorry. I should have gone." She winced as FourGrey, tugged on her foot.

"Don't be silly," FourGrey said softly. "You can't walk. And stay still, you're going to open up these wounds again."

"Some discomfort on my part is worth not seeing another person killed."

TwoBlue lent over to get a better look. "I'd like to see you even try to stand on those feet of yours. Have they even stopped bleeding yet?" 

ThreeBrown looked at her for a moment and TwoBlue was close enough to see the flash of worry in her friend's eyes. "Fine," the shorter girl replied. She swung her legs off the bed, placed them on the floor and stood.

It took both of them to catch her as she toppled forward. TwoBlue took most of the weight, glad that she'd still been sitting on the bunk, so that it broke most of the fall. In the back of her mind as she pushed the now unconscious girl back onto her bunk, she noted just how light she had become, wondering if the same had happened to her.

FourGrey went back to bandaging ThreeBrown's feet. "I wish you wouldn't provoke her like that. You know she's stubborn."

"She's stopped moving at least."

"And opened up one of the large gashes again. You wanted to be a doctor. Why'd you do it?"

TwoBlue looked down at the floor. "He thought it was her today, when I turned up. He was going to kill her but when he found out it was me he let me go. That's the second time he's let one of us off."

FourGrey looked horrified. "We can't let her go back!"

"We have to. He said that only she could go there now and judging by the way he said it, it wouldn't be a good idea to keep her from going. She needs to be able to walk, and if unconsciousness is the only way she'll rest then that's how we'll keep her."

~*~*~*~

Yotemu-sei slowly became smaller as they pulled away from the planet. Inside, Bulma was secretly glad she was leaving this interesting place and heading home to where things were more normal. Yamcha stood beside her with his arm around her waist and she let her head lean on his shoulder. 

"Hontij says four hours before we can jump to hyperspace," he said. "He seemed really edgy. Did you notice?"

"I think my outburst put more strain on things than he can handle," she replied softly.

"Nah, that's not it. He's edgy about something else but I can't put my finger on what it is."

Bulma shrugged. "It doesn't matter. We'll be home soon and be safe enough."

"Hope you're right babe."

~*~*~*~

Only the console screens lighted the bridge of the Ginyu cruiser. "Ship heading, point oh two seven," a lackey said. 

"Keep shields up," Captain Ginyu barked, "follow at a safe distance. Make sure it's them before we pounce."

"Captain."

Ginyu looked around to see Jeice standing at attention behind him. He scowled.

"New report from Master Frieza. Apparently the rogue Saiya-jin has been spotted planet-side. Master Frieza is of the opinion that the monkey is in charge of the planet and wants him eradicated A.S.A.P."

The Captain gave the impression of a raised eyebrow. "That so? Well, we'll see what we can do after we pick up that tech that's been causing all these problems. He caused a ruckus down there today." He nodded towards the large screen at the front of the ship. "They're hightailing it out if there before their 'allies' got get the better of them."

Jeice relaxed, knowing that the Captain's temper had died in the last couple of hours. "What reports do we have on him?"

"Dark hair, dark eyes, the scouters picked up a significant ki. He has a woman that does the talking for him."

Jeice looked at the report in his hand. "Captain that might be the monkey; the description is the same."

"So? What if they all look like that? And who ever heard of a smart Saiya-jin?"

"Sir, what do you think the chances are of a missing infant Saiya-jin space pod, landing on a planet with exactly the same physical description? And there were a couple of smarter ones. Apparently Radditz's father was one of them. The brains seemed to have skipped him, so perhaps little bro is an in-te-lec-tu-al."

Ginyu turned to look at his subordinate. "Good point." He went back to the screen. "So, we have a Saiya-jin on our hands. Won't be too hard to take care of then."

~*~*~*~

Bulma was in the mess hall when the alarms started. She had been having a quick snack before heading off to find Hontij and ask him why he was so wound up.

In the second it took her to run to the door and into the hall, people were already beginning to panic. They ran up and down the corridors.

A big bulky man, who almost knocked her over as she tried to make her way to the bridge, went past screaming, "The Ginyu's! It's the Ginyu's!"

Not even wanting to know, she hurried past, almost knocking someone over herself as she tore around a corner. "Hontij!"

"Bulma," he breathed in relief. "We have a tail. I am afraid it is the Ginyu's."

"I heard. Who are they?"

"Frieza's top troops. They're ruthless and they are closing in on us very fast." He shook his head sadly. "There is no way that we can outrun them."

People ran past them. "This is what you were worried about wasn't it?"

He nodded. "I had heard things. I had hoped they were rumours but I got you off the planet as fast as possible but I'm afraid it was all pointless."

"How did we miss them?" she asked.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips. "You are not the only inventor in this universe my friend. Frieza has many under his command. Shields are nothing new, theirs allow them to appear not there until they come within a certain distance." To his surprise she smiled broadly. "Bulma?"

"Is that all?" She looked quite smug with herself. "I'll be right back."

Hontij watched her go. "Bulma? Bulma? What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," she grinned as she turned a corner and looked back at him. "Go and have a coffee or something."

~*~*~*~

"Lasers ready and armed. Where would you like to strike Captain?" a lackey asked.

"Warning shot across the bow."

"Firing."

A red beam streaked out from under the right side of the Ginyu cruiser crossing just over the bow of the older model ship before the target disappeared.

"What in hell?" Ginyu yelled. "Where'd they go?"

"Scanning on all frequencies. Radar. Sonar. Infrared." The lackey turned to Ginyu. "Nothing."

Jeice whistled lowly from behind Ginyu. "Smart bastard."

**_Thank you_**

Starkiller – for making me get my arse back in gear. Check out Strike a Pose - A Ginyu Shrine 

adbzfan2K03 – glad you're still reading. 

Kirusuchinu - hope I cleared some of that stuff up for you


	10. Chapter 9

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 9: **

The large oval door slid back. Frieza stalked through into the room he used to take audience as behind him ash floated slowly down into a twisted mass of metal that had once been a chair in front of a console on the bridge. Around the bridge twenty various life-forms stood stock still as their Master walked away, not daring even to breathe while he was in such a foul temper.

The Tsiru-jin lord ignored his second in command as the man bowed to him. Instead he alighted into his hovering chair and accepted a glass of wine from the waiting Dodoria. His long thick tail swished angrily from side to side as he took an uncharacteristic gulp and scowled out through the window that gave a panoramic view of the rear of the ship.

"Incompetence," he growled. "I'm surrounded by it."

The two other men glanced at each other, wondering which would be the best way too broach the subject.

Dodoria stepped up behind the floating chair. "Master Frieza, this is an unwelcome turn of events."

"You think I don't know that?" Frieza hissed. "This is a disaster. Not only is there now a tech that is one-step ahead of my own, this is now the second time they have caused me to look a fool!" The crystal glass shattered in is hand. "Power wanes when it looks weak!"

The bloated pink man nodded hesitantly. "Y…yes Master Frieza. However, the Ginyus are awaiting your orders."

Frieza manoeuvred his chair over so that he faced the two he most trusted in his crew, despite the hate he knew the two held for each other. His red eyes narrowed and Dodoria shifted nervously on his short legs. Zarbon stood, impassive as always. Frieza tipped his head to the side. "Zarbon. I wish for you to convey a message to Vegeta." He brushed some of the spilt wine from his arm. "Tell him he has my permission to look for this Chikyuu-sei that he has told me about. However, he and his companions must detour to the Huptup system before they leave and take care of a small matter there. I will give him more details later. Dodoria. Tell the Ginyus they are on shore leave, planet Frieza no.79, until such time as I can get there and debrief them myself."

The two men gave a short bow. "As you wish, Master Frieza," they said in unison before turning and leaving the room.

"Zarbon," Frieza called as the two reached the door. The blue skinned man halted and stepped to the side to let Dodoria pass before turning back to his Lord. "I will see you back here later." There was a slight flickering in the other man's eyes.

"As you wish, Master Frieza," he replied.

Frieza smiled as his second in command swept out of the room.

* * *

The Rebels threw a party and Bulma made damn sure she took the opportunity to join in. Not one person on their ship was on duty. A stupid move by all accounts but with the shield in place they weren't in any immediate danger; unless someone ran right into them which was unlikely in this area of space. Once upon a time the shipping lane they were drifting in was heavily used, but since Frieza had destroyed Kopoto-sei over fifty years ago no one even came over into this part of space anymore. Lucky for the Chikyuu-jin rebels because the system they came from lay beyond the old location, far beyond the end of the shipping lane. And lucky for the rest of Chikyuu-sei because they had virtually no idea that all of this was going under their noses.

Bulma tossed back another shot of something-or-other, she had forgotten what it was about six of them ago, and waved merrily at Hontij who was on the other side of the room in the middle of a complicated looking dance that involved everybody facing the middle of the room and holding hands.

He waved back and promptly fell over, taking his dancing companions with him. Bulma laughed so hard she fell off her stool. Luckily someone's arms had been waiting for her and she cheered loudly, shouting her victory over the hard floor to the room.

"Someone's had a bit much haven't they?" Yamcha whispered into her ear.

She swung around and latched herself around his neck. "Not nearly enough!" she yelled, giggling, loud enough to deafen him.

He winced but didn't loosen his grip on her. "I think it's time you went to bed, babe. The rebels wouldn't like it if their favourite girl suddenly got a real bad case of amnesia."

Bulma laughed loudly. "A likely excuse! I know what you want!" she exclaimed, pushing away from him and twirling around. "You want to have sex!"

His cheeks flushed red as she announced his very thoughts to the entire ship. Guilt rose up inside him until he reminded himself of just why he hadn't been joining in the festivities as much as the others. Her safety had to come first and judging by some of the looks she had been getting throughout the boisterous celebrations he was glad that one of them was not drunk.

Sweeping her up into his arms he carried her from the room. Several people called out unsavoury things as they went and she waved merrily at them over his shoulder. Yamcha rolled his eyes and prayed for the day he could set foot on Chikyuu-sei again as the bar doors slid shut behind them.

* * *

It seemed that the cargo hold was becoming a favourite hang out for Saiya-jins, OneBlack mused as she stacked supplies into their designated areas. Radditz was down here again, sitting on a crate and brooding. He'd been doing it for the past two hours. She knew, because she'd been there for the last four and would probably still be there when he left.

She hefted the crate she was carrying over to the next platform, leaving grey handprints in her wake. The other slaves glared at her, as per usual, and she ignored them, pushing their crates aside to make room for her own.

As she wrenched the lid off her eye began to itch again. Thinking it was her hair she brushed a few of the loose strands out of the way. It didn't help and the itch became a low burning sensation. She rubbed her eye with the back of her grubby hand but to no avail; the burning itch simply became worse. Unpacking the crate with one hand, she scratched her itch in earnest, mindful of opening up the recently healed wound. Idly she wondered what the scar would look like when and if she ever washed her face again. Would it look ugly and red, as it was now, forever? Or would it fade? She shook her head. What useless thoughts those were. She had been lucky enough not to lose the eye in the first place. A simple scar was worth her sight any day of the week in her book.

For the next half hour she silently went about her duties, until she tripped and went sprawling on her face. The small crate she had been carrying broke as it hit the hard metal floor and its contents and the hard yet brittle plastic it was made of spilled in every direction. Laughter filled with mirth met her ears and she looked up to see two other slaves standing over her. Her eyes narrowed in anger.

"Oh look," one said scornfully. "It's angry. Did we hurt your feelings, animal?"

The woman joined in. "Aw diddums fell over. What a pity." They laughed again.

OneBlack glared up at them. She had never been one to take shit from people and it had taken most of her precarious control over her temper to keep her alive until now. But looking up at the ugly and stupid faces above her, she snapped.

Launching herself from the ground she lunged at the one who was bent over her, landing a solid punch on his jaw. She had never been a weak girl but the man went down more from surprise than anything else. The woman was so startled she didn't react until OneBlack had a fist full of her short pink hair. She swung the woman around and smashed her into a pile of crates. Coming out of his daze the man reached out and grabbed her ankle, wrenching it out from under her. As she fell, OneBlack lashed out with her fist and once again connected. The man swore and backhanded her across the face. Stunned, she saw that he was standing above her and she lifted her foot, kicking him square in the groin. He went down again. Scrambling to her feet she began kicking him. Over and over, a guttural scream coming from her mouth, one that six months ago she never would have believed could come from her.

Suddenly she was pulled away and the unfamiliar sensation of not having her feet on the floor quieted her cry. Someone shook her roughly.

"Can't a body get any peace and quiet around here?" it growled.

The man on the floor looked up at her captor and his face froze somewhere between a grimace and terror. Stumbling, he got painfully to his feet, muttering apologies in gibberish and backed slowly away.

OneBlack felt her body bend as the larger person holding her bent over to better see the other slave on the floor. "Boo," the voice holding her said. The two slaves ran.

By this time OneBlack had her eyes squeezed tightly shut and was trembling. Whoever this was, and she had a pretty good idea who, they were going to kill her. To her surprise she felt her feet touch the floor again.

"I have to admit, for a filthy, smelly thing, you've sure got guts."

Trembling she turned, head bowed and fixed her eyes upon the ground. The tips of two blue and tan boots were all she could see on the grey metal floor, that and the very tips of long black hair. A large hand came up and pulled her chin up so she faced him.

Radditz grinned down at the slave as she trembled. Her eyes were drawn to the sharp incisors that weren't quite hidden by his lips. He grinned wider and dropped his hand. "You think you're clever don't you?" he asked chuckling. "You and your little friend. Young females don't often last as long as the two of you."

Her eyes went wide.

He laughed at her astonishment and she took the chance to take a step back. "Yeah, I know your secret. Even though all that muck I can still smell the real you." He poked her shoulder, emphasising his last word. He took a deep breath. "Only a few years out of girlhood too. A pity really." When she said nothing and lowered her head again, he sighed. "Word of advice girl. If you want to stay alive, don't start any of that lame fighting crap in front of Nappa." He turned and walked away.

OneBlack stared after him as he disappeared through a doorway on the other side of the cargo bay and for some time after. Then slowly she shook herself free of her shock and began cleaning up the mess scattered on the cold metal floor.

* * *

Vegeta limped out of Frieza's quarters holding his broken left arm to his side. Blood poured from his nose and dripped onto his white boots as he muttered curses in the dying Saiya-jin language. The white freak had thankfully been in a good mood tonight; otherwise he wouldn't be walking away from the past two hours. On the other hand if he had blacked out, there was a small chance that he wouldn't have remembered what had happened. He cursed again and continued limping down the hall.

He turned a corner and walked straight into someone. The impact jarred his injured leg and he stumbled backward, grunting as he flung out his broken arm to steady himself. Pain ripped up his arm.

"Enjoy yourself monkey?" A smooth voice asked.

Vegeta looked up expecting to see laughter and mirth in Zarbon's eyes. But the other man held no expression in his face whatsoever.

Vegeta smirked to hide his disgust at running into him. "Why? Jealous?"

Anger flickered across blue features and the Saiya-jin Prince realised suddenly that Frieza's second in command was standing defensively, his arms crossed over his chest, as if expecting Vegeta to attack. "By all means, little Prince, have your fill. I will not stop you."

The Saiya-jin Prince scowled, wishing he were strong enough to live up to the other man's expectations and hurt the taller and more powerfully built soldier. "You bastard. I…"

Zarbon scowled suddenly and his eyes narrowed as if he had just noticed the extent of Vegeta's injuries. Waving a hand impatiently at the angry Prince the blue skinned man walked past him, tossing his braid over his shoulder. "Save it Vegeta. I don't have the time to listen to your incessant whining." He disappeared around the corner.

Vegeta glared after his back for a long while before limping off to the med-bay. He was met by a couple of Untouchables and he wondered vaguely how they had known he would be there as they helped him remove his body suit, without further injury to his arm.

"My lord," the one with short purple hair asked. "Would like for us to stay and ensure your safe awakening?"

Vegeta scowled at her. "As always my answer is no."

She smiled at him, but no warmth was in her eyes. "As always, the next time you come in, I will ask." She and her companion helped him into a tank and watched silently as the healing liquid rose up around the Saiya-jin Prince.

"Filthy monkey," the other spat as Vegeta lost conciousness.

* * *

Hontij was quite thankful that alcohol only had an effect upon his race for as long as they wanted it to. Right now he was sure that he was one of a very few who had the working mental capacity to attend to the ships controls. And that was a good thing because a Maiyosh-jin freighter was trying to hail them over the secure lines they had set up before they had left Chikyuu-sei.

Sweeping his long red hair over his shoulder he hit 'receive' and the console in front of him was immediately filled with the angry face of Ophis, his Maiyosh-jin contact.

"Hontij! I've been trying to hail you for hours! What in the universe have you been doing?" His red face became redder as Hontij smiled smugly at him.

"Doing, Ophis? We have been celebrating."

"Celebrating?!" the Maiyosh-jin roared. "We're in the middle of a rebellion that is teetering dangerously on the loosing side and you are celebrating?!"

"Ophis, please, you're getting spittle all over your console screen," Hontij replied, barely keeping his laughter in check.

"You think I care, you mad son-of-a-guttlefish?!" Ophis glared at his friend. "You were supposed to rendezvous with us hours ago. Where are you?"

Hontij made a show of checking his monitor. "Right where we are supposed to be."

The Maiyosh-jin's eyes almost popped out of his head in anger. Hontij watched as the man took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Check again Hontij," he said more calmly. You are not on our scanners."

"Of course not." He reached over and flicked a switch. "How about now?" he asked lightly.

Ophis was no longer glaring at him. The man's eyes were staring widely at something off screen. "How in the universe…why didn't our proximity alarms go off?" he asked, running a hand through his short white hair his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Hontij sighed and buried his head in his hands. Did nothing ever impress a Maiyosh-jin? "By the calculations shown here we are precisely twenty centimetres from the edge of your proximity field," he muttered just loud enough for his friend to hear.

"Impressive."

Hontij grinned and lifted his head.

"So, do we expect a visit?"

Hontij paused. "We may have to wait."

"Why?" Ophis frowned.

"They may not wake up for a while."

Ophis pinched the bridge of his nose again.

* * *

Gokou frowned as he looked up into the night sky. The expression was almost alien to his usually cheery face but something had called him out here and he was determined to find out what it was even if it took the whole night, even if it meant facing ChiChi's wrath in the morning.

He sighed and broke his concentration as a little breeze decided to have some fun with his unruly hair. So many things were going on. Not that his life had ever been what anyone would call normal but now with Bulma hanging around with some really strange characters – aliens no less! – everything seemed to be going…wrong.

He returned his gaze to the sky. If he concentrated hard enough he could just feel them flickering on the edges of his senses. Bulma, Yamcha, the friend of Bulma's dad…they were all there, yet something tugged in his head, something telling him that they wouldn't be completely safe unless he was with them or they had put their feet back down on Chikyuu-sei soil.

And then there was the other thing. It didn't happen often, but every now and again he would receive an overwhelming feeling of malice it was very far away and it worried him that something was so powerful as to project their intentions that far. Not many things scared him, apart for ChiChi's frying pan, but this was…

"Dad?"

Gokou jerked as the soft little voice hit his ears and lost his train of thought.

Gohan climbed slowly over the side of the cliff his father was sitting on giving him a big grin as he did so.

"Whatcha doin' dad?" he asked.

Gokou grinned back. "Your mum will take a pot to my head for letting you speak like that Gohan."

The young child grinned, his tail sweeping the air behind him. "Sorry. What are you doing dad?" he asked again as Gokou ruffled his hair.

"Just thinking." He stood up. "C'mon, let's get back before your mum notices you're missing or I'll get something worse than a pot."

Gohan giggled and fisted his small hands in his father's gi as Gokou launched himself into the air. The warm night wind whistled around them as the speck that was their home grew steadily larger. Gokou was relieved to see that the lights were still out, meaning that ChiChi hadn't woken up.

He touched down on the grass in their backyard and let Gohan go ahead of him to open the door. He stopped before stepping over the threshold and turned to look up at the sky again. It seemed peaceful, especially looking at it through the swaying braches of familiar trees. He sighed. _Come home safe friends._ He stepped inside.

* * *

High above the sleeping half of Chikyuu-sei, an old and wizened face smiled. "So, finally cottoned on have you? It's about time." He chuckled and thumped his heavy staff against the ground. "Hear that Mr. Popo? The boy has begun to work it out."

The smaller but fatter figure beside him smiled.

Kami thumped the staff against the tiled floor of his floating island again. "He still needs time though. So, let's hope my other half doesn't go off on another tangent from the one he's started."

Mr. Popo cleared his throat. "Will Piccolo ever be trustworthy Kami-sama?"

"Hmm," the old man mused, his green antennas bouncing forward, "it will depend."

"On what?"

The old man looked up at the night sky. "I am not sure yet."

* * *

**Author's note:** Dear god…Feburary? Has it been that long? Well, to all of you who are still reading this…I'm really sorry!

And especially to Star (my No.1 fan – well of this fic anyway), you've been on my back about this for ages…but it's your fault for starting that RPG! Mwah hahaha!

Ahem, yes, well, I'll try to be a little quicker next time. Less than six months anyway . Hope you're all enjoying it so far.

And thanks to Funky Nassau, Cn and Deranged Medicine for reviewing.


	11. Chapter 10

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 10:**

It was near dusk when Piccolo looked up into the sky and saw nothing. A tingling on the edge of his senses caused him to narrow his eyes. Something was there but for some reason his eyes could not see it. He shifted his feet in the dirt of the mesa that overlooked West City and the dome of Capsule Corp. gleamed in the fading light…before it flickered like someone had dropped a pebble in water.

The ridge of Piccolo's eye rose. That was definitely not normal. Suddenly the landing pad of Capsule Corp. was a whirl with dust and his keen ears picked up the distinct sound of metal hitting concrete.

The corners of his mouth twitched. _Hmm. You're smarter than I gave you credit for woman._

He waited as the dust settled, keeping tabs on both the life forces in and around the domed building and that of the fast approaching Gokou from the other side of the city. The man was dragging the kid along as well.

People were exiting the ship, suddenly appearing ten feet in the air and walking down invisible steps. He could have moved closer, heard more clearly what they were talking about, but chose not to move. Gokou did not need to know he was here at this moment, despite the uneasy sense of truce that had formed between the two.

As Bulma and the fool Yamcha emerged from the ship Gokou set foot on the tarmac and she rushed over to him, babbling about all the things she had seen.

Piccolo stayed where he was until he had the information he needed then moved off into the countryside where rasping human voices couldn't reach his ears. He felt Gokou's chi flare behind him as the man finally noticed his presence. Not that it mattered. None of them had anything to worry about from him for the moment.

The wind picked up the end of his cape and tossed it around as he flew the contours of his face set in a frown. This was not good. Despite the fact that the woman seemed to believe that she had given these 'Ginyus' the slip, the soft warnings that the ebony skinned man had muttered to her as she left the ship made it all to clear to him that this out of the way, backwards little planet would not have long to wait before it was found.

* * *

Zarbon paced in his quarters. It seemed like it was beginning to be a favourite pastime for him.

He had been planning to kill her. Again. But this time when she had turned up, and he had made sure it was her, she had been escorted by a friend. And this one was different again from the one that had come before. He watched as they walked together, across his quarters to the slave's stool, which was next to his chair. The slave sat down, breathing hard. Her friend turned and bowed.

"Hurry up and get out of my sight," he said, trying to inflict his voice with as much annoyance as he could muster.

The friend jumped, bowed again and hastily turned away. He frowned even as curiosity tugged at him. _Who are these slaves? Why haven't they been punished for this?_ Nothing like them had been seen on the ship for many years. In fact he couldn't exactly remember anything quite as strange. There had been slaves who tried to deal their way out, slaves who had thought it best to just move up in the world by becoming whores, who at least got fed better, or those who had pledged their allegiance to Frieza and died as cannon fodder. But never ones who had lived covered in dirt. He shrugged off these thoughts as he strode over to his chair and sat down. He knew he wouldn't kill her now. At least, not until he had figured out exactly what she was trying to prove.

She cringed away from him as he settled in his chair.

He smirked. _Still scared._ "Get on with it."

She nodded and silently began her work.

* * *

For twenty minutes solid she did not pause. Her hands were aching towards the end but she dared not stop until he asked. Not for the first time did her mind wander and ask why he felt that it was better to call her instead of simply using one of the healing tanks she had heard about. Her thoughts drifted to Ay...no, to FourGrey. She berated herself silently. She had to remember to use the stupid names the other slaves had given them. Then if she ever was forced to speak, the name would come to her lips like second nature and the bastards on this ship would never know who they truly were. Although to never hear her name spoken aloud again...the thought sent chills down her spine.

But, she had wandered into self-pity again and she had no right. Not when there were others far worse off than her. FourGrey...she might never be able to do anything than walk slowly down a street ever again. It was a miracle that she was still alive, that she had survived her horrendous beating and that they had not 'put her down' after she had recovered and found that she was not fast or strong enough to do most of the work required of Frieza's slaves. Only because Petak had taken pity on them did she now spend her days mending clothes. And the girl would be in pain tonight, after having to help her all the way to the officers' quarters.

Zarbon jerked his arm away from her suddenly, breaking the pattern of thoughts running through her mind. She recovered in time to save herself from toppling off her stool and waited until he had swept into his bedchambers before leaving her post and depositing the now filthy towel in the laundry.

* * *

As he stood silently on the other side of his bedchamber door, Zarbon brooded. He flexed his arm, nodding to himself when the muscles did not ache in protest for once. The girl, despite her filthy state and his reluctance to admit it, was a valuable resource to him. She prevented, in some small way, his dependence on Frieza, even if it was just through the lessened use of the medical facilities.

He frowned at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall across the room and wondered what the best way of gathering information about her was. And her friends. He knew that there were definitely at least three of them but it seemed only the gods knew how many were taking to the dirt covered look. Perhaps they were starting a new fashion trend for slaves. He remembered the time they had all taken a liking to doing everything in long sweeping bows. Frieza had tolerated it until one had knocked over a passing Untouchable and in doing so spilt his precious wine across a corridor floor. He grimaced, remembering how easily the wine had been cleaned up in comparison.

He spun around, cape flowing behind him, and walked back into the main room.

The slave froze when she saw him; paused in her hesitant walk towards the outer door, her eyes wide with fear. The sudden terror on her face threw him for a minute before he realised that once she had finished he usually just let her leave. She probably thought she had done something terribly wrong.

"Get out already," he growled, his fleeting sympathy for her fear melting away as quickly as it had come. He didn't care to let her feel even the tiniest bit secure in his presence.

She gave a shaky bowing nod as the fear in her eyes abated a little and resumed walking.

Her first step almost sent her sprawling across his floor. Her leg shook violently as she placed the weight on it, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, sucking in air in a shaky gasp. She stood so for another few seconds before she tried again.

A delicate eyebrow rose as he watched her attempt another step, her eyes flicked in fear towards him, probably because she thought she was not moving fast enough. Zarbon confirmed his suspicion as she took two quick steps, not quite managing to bite back a cry of agony and crumpled to the floor. Her hands went to her feet and hovered over them, obviously wanting to soothe the pain but at the same time not cause it to get worse. Her ragged breathing rasped harshly on his ears.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he asked, wishing to slate his curiosity, though the answer was easy enough to guess.

A shaking hand pointed to her feet and then made flicking motions back and forth through the air.

He understood the sorry attempt at communication but it didn't keep him from frowning. "I'm not in the mood for sign language. Use the mouth you were born with," he snapped.

One eye forced itself open to look at him and then quickly at the floor as she remembered her place. Her mouth opened and closed much like a fish, as if she couldn't find the words to express what she meant. A tear slipped down her cheek.

Anger filled him and he was about to step forward and strike her when her hand rose to her throat and she shook her head. That was much easier to understand. "You cannot speak." She nodded.

Zarbon frowned. "Fine. Go back to your duties." He strode past her and out into the corridor. It was time to speak to Petak.

* * *

After the disaster concerning the rebel spacecraft, the Ginyu Special Force headed back to their main base of operations, Planet Frieza No. 79. It was a full galaxy away from where they had been but as the Captain had put it; Frieza says, they jump.

Currently they were all stuck in orbit, waiting for clearance to land. They'd been waiting a week. None to subtly showing exactly how pissed off Frieza was with their failed mission. Not only that but they'd run out of chocolate bars, Guldo having cheated them out of the last of them when they played poker two days ago. Of course, having the time freeze ability was handy, especially when no one could accuse him of doing it, seeing as he never actually appeared to have moved from his seat.

The captain of their little ship entered the room and sighed heavily. "Sirs, Master Frieza has granted landing permission."

Four of them slumped in their seats. "Quit wasting time then," Ginyu barked, throwing the nearest thing to hand at the squat fish man. The small cube paperweight shattered as it hit the wall to the side of the ship's captain.

With a week behind him of such behaviour the man simply bowed and backed out of the room.

Jiece credited the guy for not flinching and glanced over at his captain. _Bastard. Hope Frieza gives you what you deserve._

The red-skinned Ginyu was proud of his place in the Frieza's elite squad. His status was well known and no one would dare cross him, were he among his colleagues or otherwise. But it had been a difficult climb to get to were he was and he did not want to loose it simply because his Captain had taken an extreme disliking to him.

And he knew why.

Unlike many of the high ranked personnel that worked for Frieza, Jiece had been one of the few not taken because he was interesting, or because the rest of his race were destroyed but because his parents had thought it would be a good career move.

His father, a man high on the Maiyosh-jin council had packed him off when he was barely seven years of age to be trained in one of the harshest training camps in the Ice-jin Empire. Jiece had known even then that his father had just hoped that his son would be killed. Wild as a child and not particularly good at his studies, Jiece had been as disappointing as any Maiyosh-jin child could have been. And for a man in his father's position it had meant that he would be scorned, because on Maiyosh-sei, your success was measured through how well your only child performed. Had Jiece died he would have been free to sire another.

But one of Jiece's, disappointing qualities was that he was abnormally stubborn. Just to spite his parents he had done his level best at being the top-ranked fighter for his age and then, at the tender age of twelve, Frieza had noticed him.

He remembered the day clearly. His drill sergeant had been yelling at his squad for a good two hours about how well they were to perform at the tournament for Frieza. Jeice had spent the entire time ignoring the man and trying to figure out just how long he could grow his hair before he was really stretching the regulations. It was because of this that he never noticed that Frieza had come past on a random inspection of his troops and had asked him a question.

Quick on his feet, Jeice had replied, "Huh?"

He could have sworn his drill sergeant had a heart attack right then and there and when Jiece realised who he had so eloquently replied to, he almost had one himself. It must have been a good day because the Tsiru-jin lord had smirked and asked him his name.

"Jiece," he had answered promptly, hoping that the first word that had jumped into his head was actually his name.

"Jiece," Frieza had repeated. The twelve year old relaxed. "Good luck with the tournament." And the ruler of most of the galaxy had wandered off. Just like that. Jiece couldn't believe his luck.

Naturally he had gone on to win the tournament, even against fully trained grown men twice his size. He had his first real taste of what power he might gain that day; especially when he had been presented to Frieza for the second time.

"So, you are more than just your usual Maiyosh-jin," Frieza had said.

Jiece, who had worked out that 'huh' would not cut it as an answer this time replied, "I've been here since I was seven, Lord Frieza, most of my people don't train this much."

"A pity." He didn't flinch as Frieza gazed down at him, even though the red eyes were undoubtedly the creepiest thing he had ever seen. After a moment Frieza had turned to his second-in-command. "Bring the boy up here; I want him to see his competition."

_Competition?_ Jeice had thought. _For what?_ But he had not waited long to find out.

The other 'boy', when he arrived was clearly older than him by several years. And it was clear by the way that Frieza had looked at him that this 'boy' was very special in his eyes.

And when the newcomer had turned his golden eyes to look at Jeice, it was also clear that this boy had been under Frieza's wing for far too long. His eyes were dull and he was clearly terrified of the Tsiru-jin lord.

"This is Zarbon," Frieza had said. "There is an open spot on my special forces team, the Ginyu Force. Captain Ginyu," he gestured to a large purple man on his right, "is going to preside over the next match to see which of you is more worthy to be under his command."

And so it had begun.

From the moment he had stepped into that arena, Jiece had had the match won. He knew and he knew that Zarbon knew that he was the stronger of the two. But the blue skinned boy had tried his utmost, his shoulder length green hair whipping about his face as he tried vainly to keep up with Jeice's speed. And Ginyu, well Ginyu had taken every opportunity to call the match in Zarbon's favour. So when Jeice finally put the other boy out of the match Ginyu almost went blue with rage protesting to Frieza that this ignorant Maiyosh-jin boy must somehow have cheated.

Frieza had chuckled, declared him the winner and walked away.

Three weeks later he was sent on his first mission and his captain had bitched the entire time about how little experience he had. And then Jeice had put the nail in the coffin.

"So sorry I took the place of your cute little boyfriend."

He spent the next two days in a regen tank.

Sitting in the lounge of the orbiting spaceship Jeice wasn't surprised at how little the relationship between he and his captain had changed over the years.

* * *

On a newly purged planet a long haired Saiya-jin wondered the same thing about his Prince. He stood on a bluff overlooking what was once the main capital of the planet, his long heavy hair barely moving in the slight breeze.

Glancing over his shoulder he looked to the campsite where Nappa and Vegeta were roasting whatever the little rodent Nappa had found in this wasteland was. Apparently Vegeta was getting tired of raw meat. Once again Radditz's opinion had been completely overlooked.

When was his prince going to start trusting him? For the gods' sake they were the only ones if their kind left and yet the most Vegeta ever spoke to him was to tell him what a woeful fighter he was. If only he had held a higher position of power when Vegeta-sei had been destroyed. Radditz sighed knowing that that fantasy had been impossible. He had only been eight and on his first purging missions with some of Frieza's other minions when that happened.

He wasn't the smartest of men either. Going behind his prince's back to speak to Frieza had proven that to him. Perhaps…perhaps if he found Chikyuu-sei and found his brother still alive, perhaps then his prince would have more respect for him.

Perhaps he would also get himself killed by meddling in Frieza's affairs with this new tech.

Perhaps he would finally do something right the day hell froze over. Well, if that last one were true, at least he'd have a long while to practice for it.

* * *

Bulma rubbed her temples in annoyance. It had been one thing after another today and all she had wanted to do was sleep.

After the quick visit to the Maiyosh-jin ship, where she and Yamcha had both recognised the man from her father's meeting but not said a word about her involvement in the rebellion, they had head straight home, where she had been met by her father who had given her a two hour lecture on being more careful in unsecured places like Yotume-sei and taking unnecessary risks like not having the shield up until after they had been spotted. She had responded by saying they were tiny little glitches in the plan and besides nothing had gone wrong, which set him off again on a lecture about how they couldn't afford 'tiny little glitches'. Then Gokou and ChiChi had arrived and she could tell from the look on his face that she had better get ready to settle in again for yet another tirade.

Short of prostrating herself she apologised to ChiChi as best she could and tried to explain why they needed Gokou's help so much. It took a bit of fancy wording but eventually ChiChi gave in and decided that Gokou helping was for the better and besides he took up too much of her time around the house anyway.

Raising her head from her soothing fingers Bulma rose and staggered up the stairs to her bedroom. She flung open the door to find Yamcha fast asleep and snoring on his side of her bed. Rolling her eyes she flopped down next to him. Sleepily he mumbled, "I wondered how long you were going to be," and put his arm around her. Snuggled against his warmth she felt fast asleep.

* * *

Frieza sat in his audience room on Planet Frieza No. 79 waiting for the Ginyus to arrive and grinning at the screen in front of him as it faded to black, his red eyes flashing in delight.

This was the most interesting news he had had in months. Who would have thought a stupid monkey could be right?

* * *

**Author's note:**

August? August? I haven't updated this thing since then? Wow. I think I've had writers block for a while now. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter out sooner.

Hopefully this makes some more sense. I'm sorry again if people feel that this is all over the place but, well that's the way it is. Too many characters that will eventually have interlocking plots. At one point I'm even going to make sure they're all in the same room at the same time! gasp

And to FunkyNassu (sp?) um 'cottoned on' basically means 'to catch on to' or 'to get the idea of'.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter I'm hoping in the next one I can get some action into it but the thing is I can't play out the major action until the group of slave girls have been caught out by Frieza. Then the real fun starts. .


	12. Chapter 11

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 11:**

The months since what Bulma had come to refer as the Yotemu-sei disaster had been a flurry of activity on Chikyuu-sei. Not only had the production of her lasers stepped up a notch they had also started to mass produce her shield for some of the more strategic rebel outposts; which left Yamcha wondering why she still referred to the meeting as a disaster since all that had come from it seemed to be nothing but beneficial. She claimed that it had made her look bad, if nothing else, and that was more than enough to be considered disastrous.

Dr. Briefs on the other hand was quite pleased things had turned out the way they had because it allowed him to keep his headstrong daughter further away from the rebels true plans than he would have been able, had they taken her seriously her first time on the job. He had pushed her back into the lab, keeping her busy with refining the lasers and developing smaller and more portable varieties of the shield.

In the back of her mind Bulma was aware of what her father was doing, but with all the work she was faced with, didn't really care. It was keeping her occupied, giving her a great excuse for avoiding Yamcha whenever she wanted, and allowing her to talk more with all the off-worlders who came through to work at the lab periodically. Apart from learning more about the structure of the universe outside her home planet, which was far more varied and structured than she ever dreamed, she loved hearing about the small things that seemed so trivial but ran through almost every culture. Her favourite were the rumours revolving around the overlord, Frieza.

They weren't all pleasant and most of them were far from true but Bulma had made a habit of collecting them nonetheless. She even kept a list of her top five:

5. The rebel's master tech had a machine that could take out Frieza in one go, providing he had been suffering from a cold for a month previously.

4. They had hired an assassin and even as they spoke he was infiltrating the ship planing to poison Frieza in his sleep.

3. Frieza was really a girl and all anyone had to do was marry her and everything would be fine.

2. The being named Frieza didn't really exist and it was all just a ploy from weapons brokers to keep them all in business.

1. The man who had sat quietly through the meetings on Yotemu-sei was really the master-tech and not the loud mouthed, blue-haired woman that had done all the talking.

The last one always made her laugh because she could just see Yamcha's eyes glazing over of anyone so much as mentioned the word 'blueprint' in his direction.

Bulma lent back in her chair and the tired support mechanism squeaked in protest. She sighed and tapped herself lightly on the side of the head; reminding herself that despite his flaws he really was a good boyfriend, even if she hadn't seen that much of him lately. Admittedly, her work was putting a lot of strain on their relationship, strain that it didn't really need, considering her wavering feelings lately, but it couldn't be helped. She would see him tonight anyway. It had been more than two weeks since they had been on a proper date and she had promised that she would be available for dinner.

She glanced back at her computer screen where a schematic for a small hand sized version of her laser spun serenely on the screen. But dinner was hours away and there was always work to be done.

* * *

OneBlack sat alone behind a tall pile of crates and wished, not for the first time since coming aboard the ship, or even in her life for that matter, that everyone would just up and go away and not ask her to do anything for more than five minutes.

Her arms ached from the mornings work. The cargo team she was a part of had thought it hilarious today when they found that there were guards goofing off down in the cargo bay where they had been sent to reshuffle crates for an incoming shipment. Guards, she mused, seemed to find it endlessly amusing that she existed and so went along with the other slaves when they asked that she be made to do most of the work. Most because there had been at least four crates that would have been impossible to move on her own.

She rubbed her upper arms and cursed Frieza for being so malicious that he didn't even purchase forklifts for his slaves. If such a thing as forklifts existed outside of her home planet. Having garnered just a little information about the rest of the universe it seemed just about every planet had people that were either super strong or had such advanced technology that such simple things as forklifts were sneered at.

She dropped her head in her hands. A few months ago she would have jerked away in disgust but by now she was used to her smell. Behind her, the cargo bay had gone silent; she couldn't even hear the footsteps of those she had come down there with. She looked down at her hands again and smirked to herself. She would have no better opportunity to try.

Slowly she cupped them together and concentrated.

It happened much faster than the first few times she had attempted it, under Petak's stern gaze and the other's awed looks.

OneBlack tilted her head to the side as if that would give her a better understanding of the pretty light she cupped in her hands but then frowned at it and let it flow back into her. She tried it again, this time shutting her eyes and imagining it sitting in her right palm, burning like fire, ready to throw at a moments notice.

She knew it wouldn't work, since all the ki manipulation Petak had been teaching them had been simple things such as using it to push small objects away or to keep a weak field around themselves for a few seconds, of which TwoBlue had been the only other one to be able to do it. The purpose of the training was so that they could gain a moment to flee if they ever found themselves in a threatening situation but when she opened her eyes the intensely glowing ball of light sat there, waiting silently for her to throw it and destroy the first thing she thought of. The destructive ball of light represented the first glimmering of her old confidence that she had known since being torn form her old life.

"You've been busy."

She dropped it causing the tarp at her feet to catch alight. Stomping madly to put it out she looked around, hoping against hope that the voice had not been addressed at her. As she looked up at the figure perched on top of the crates next to her, her heart sank.

"Last time I saw you, I thought I told you to leave crap like that alone," Radditz smirked down at her.

She dropped her gaze and backed away, hitting the crate behind her. _Shit, shit…_

He scowled. "Give it up, I'm not going to kill you, you're too entertaining. Frieza can do it himself when he finally finds out about you. Meantime you can tell me who had the guts to teach you to use ki."

Trying to stop her hands from shaking by squeezing them into fists so hard that her nails dug into her flesh she shook her head and then tapped at her throat.

"That so huh?" He propped himself up on his elbow. "You're down here all the time right?"

She nodded slowly, wary about what he was about to do.

"Great. Well, since you can't or won't talk, you can show me where the latest batch of sweet goods is."

She looked at him incredulously, completely forgetting that she wasn't supposed to look anyone directly in the eye.

He glared back, seemingly unperturbed by this, and jumped off the crate to land lightly next to her. "What?" he asked. "Haven't ever heard of anyone liking sugar before?" He pushed her shoulder so that she staggered back out into a walkway.

Grudgingly she led the way through the maze of crates.

* * *

Vegeta sat, absently prodding buttons on the console pad in front of him, with no light save the glow from the screen in the room. Once again Chikyuu-sei had failed to appear on any of the databases he had searched; the one reference that glowed at the bottom of the screen the initial report from a captured Yotemu-jin that the rebel Master tech supposedly came from there.

He frowned, wondering, not for the first time and probably not for the last, if it had been wise to follow up this lucrative lead. Hesitant as he was to do anything suggested by Radditz, the idea of another Saiya-jin somewhere out there in the universe gnawed at his gut. He couldn't shake the feeling that his long haired guard, for once in his life, might be right.

The computer blipped at him and he frowned as a warning message flashed up onto the screen: Access denied. Archive files. Please enter password.

Old files, from before King Kold had come into power.

Vegeta tapped hid fingers against the side of the screen. Perhaps, there was something in there; on an old trading route? If planets in the area had been destroyed and passage made inhospitable, new routes would have been set up, bypassing the originals.

He sat up straighter. What if the debris had cleared? There had certainly been enough time for it to do so. If so, then the planet could have been 'rediscovered' by the updated planets. Vegeta-sei, had of course still been working off the old system when it was destroyed…

He typed in his regular password. The warning messaged flashed again. A tic started to pulse on his forehead. He tried typing 'Frieza', his lip curling as he did so. The warning flashed again.

Vegeta snarled and typed, 'let me in you piece of shit technology'. The computer whirred quickly for a moment, causing him to sit back in surprise as it changed screens, before it beeped and the screen went blank.

A fist through the screen made sure it would never turn on again. "Stupid three strikes and out system," he muttered to the empty room as he thought about how to best approach the task of securing the real password and a new console.

* * *

Zarbon had hoped to speak to the head of the slaves later on the day he had last left his quarters. Unfortunately, Frieza had had other ideas and had insisted that he join him in dealing with the witless Ginyus who had been waiting for weeks in orbit around Planet Frieza no. 79.

While it had been far from the top of the list of things he had wanted to do that day, or for the week that the return trip and dealing with a most likely to be irate Captain Ginyu would take, he had thought it a thoroughly sane idea on Frieza's part as he would be there to talk his Lord out of having to replace another Ginyu member so soon after the last.

But it had been boring beyond belief.

First he had had to sit though a complete explanation of the loss of the rebel ship and the effort they went to on Yotemu-sei to secure the information they had. Winding his head around the elaborate hand gestures Ginyu made and judging from the looks on his subordinate's faces, the actual events had gone something like this:

Arrived at Yotemu-sei, beat up the natives for information, found the rebels, lost the rebels, and took anger out on everyone else for two weeks.

It wasn't any more than he had expected, not where the Ginyu's were concerned. Even if the Mastertech did turn out to be a Saiya-jin it wouldn't have taken much to get past the Ginyu's collective genius.

After he'd finished his extremely short and damning report back to the information techs that Frieza kept on hand he went down to the exercise rooms, looking for someone to spar with while he waited for his Lord to come to the inevitable conclusion that he had wasted his time. He found Jeice and the two entered into a barely friendly match which ended the same way as it did the first time they had met.

Zarbon struggled to his feet at the end, nodded to Jeice and limped towards the door. An Untouchable met him halfway and reached out to support him as he walked but he batted her hand away and growled at her so fiercely that she reeled back and fled from the room. He heard Jeice chuckle behind him.

"Ah, always so disappointed when they see that your disposition doesn't match the face."

"I've no need of them," he replied evenly. "Unlike some I have taste."

He heard Jeice snort derisively behind him. "Not what I've been hearing."

Zarbon turned to face the red-skinned Ginyu. "And what is that your keen ears have been hearing stuck all the way out here in an orbiting ship for two weeks?"

The barb made no change to Jeice's face. "Untouchables are Untouchables but they're still slaves and that means they love to gossip. You used to go to the tanks for every little scratch and bruise, now your tank stats are down by half and you refuse to let any Untouchables in your quarters at certain times of the day." He cocked his head at him. "What're you hiding?"

Zarbon regarded him quietly for a moment. He had never really harboured resentment towards the younger man for beating him at that tournament all those years ago, not even if it had been his last chance to be semi-free of Frieza's clutches. The young and unwary Jeice at the time had beaten him fairly and most likely would have done a better job of it had he known that if he had lost his life would have been forfeit. He may not have considered him a friend, but he was definitely not an enemy. He decided to risk the answer.

"One of the slaves has been attending me when I call for h…them." He had almost said her but corrected the mistake at the last minute as that would have been the point that the single-tracked mind of Jeice would have picked up on. As it was he received a suggestive leer in return.

"'Attending' you huh? So who is it?"

"Pull your mind out of the slums! I have no interest in fornicating with something that cleans out the cannon fodder's rest-rooms."

"Still doesn't answer my question."

Zarbon looked away. "I don't know who the slave is or what they are called. Only that they are the filthiest things I have ever seen and that it pains me to have them in my presence."

Jeice's eyes widened. "You mean one of them? Those stupid, mute females the other slaves make fun of? I never thought you'd let one in the same room as you!"

Zarbon fixed his golden gaze on him. "Females? How many are there?"

"Dunno. I've seen one or two. One delivered me a package once; I think her hair was red under all the gunk smeared on it." He stopped and looked at him quizzically. "Why all the questions?"

"I want to know why they haven't been punished yet," he had answered as ambiguously as possible.

The conversation played over in his head again and again as he sat cramped in the pod that was speeding him back to Frieza's ship. He hoped he had not made a mistake in speaking to Jeice about it and that the information that he was having help from a female slave would not make it back to Frieza's ears. He had, he mused, come to rely on her far too much, even past the point where he could kill her. He reasoned that despite her many and glaring faults, she was punctual and precise in what she did and how she did it and that he had come to expect her to always be there. She represented perhaps the only stable thing in his day to day life.

A sudden thought struck him. Jeice had said that they were made fun of because they were stupid and mute. The mute part he did not deny because the woman had made no sound even as she had walked on her battered feet; but stupid? He had not seen that in her eyes. She was alert to the world around her, followed instruction too easily and knew what had to be done before it was asked to often to be considered stupid; and she had not yet been punished for her filthy state. It would take a clever mind to not been seen by other officers so often that they became a concern.

He frowned out at the stars through the little porthole as the onboard console beeped and Frieza's flagship swung into view. His curiosity tweaked, he now edged to speak with Petak more than ever. Thankfully Frieza had found more urgent matters to attend to somewhere else and wouldn't be back for some time.

* * *

Dinner with Yamcha, Bulma glowered was not what others would consider 'dinner'. Certainly she didn't consider a baseball game 'dinner'. Not even if it did come complete with hot dog, drink and novelty sized #1 hand.

She was not a sports person. She'd never played at school or after and considered most exercise to be waste of her valuable time. Bulma was one of the very lucky few who had genes that rendered exercise redundant. Sadly she had the misfortune of having a circle of friends who did nothing but exercise or 'spar' as they preferred to call it. To that end she now had a vast amount of knowledge about martial arts embedded in her brain but not one scrap of it helped her to enjoy baseball. She just couldn't see the point of hitting a ball as hard as you could and then running in circles. What was the point in ending up where you started?

She sighed, loudly and dramatically, trying to catch Yamcha's attention, hoping that if she could whinge for long enough for him to give in and leave, they might actually find a restaurant still open.

He ignored her, his eyes riveted on the game and nearly knocked her on to the person next to her moments later when he jumped up to cheer with the rest of the crowd as someone made a home run.

She scowled and pushed the arm of the fat tattooed man next to her off her shoulders. He grinned and said, "Great game huh?"

She forced a smile back. "Terrific. Uh, could you excuse me? I need to go to the little girl's room."

The man swung aside and let her pass.

When she reached the top of their row of seats she glanced back. Yamcha's eyes were still glued on the game; he hadn't even noticed that she'd gone. Sighing, she headed down through the stadium and made her way home.

* * *

"Try it again."

"It's fine. I can do it now. You don't have to be so pushy."

TwoBlue frowned. "You're the one who was complaining about sitting down all day. You'd think with your feet they way they were, you'd be grateful that Petak loaded the roster."

ThreeBrown sat down heavily on her hard bunk. "He only did it because he adores FourGrey so much." She shook her head. "How she managed to make him understand with out speaking to him I don't know."

TwoBlue gave a small smile. "She always was good at charades. Used to beat the pants off me all the time."

"Well I am grateful," ThreeBrown said, rising to her feet again. "If I had to stand up anymore I don't think I would have ever walked again."

The blue-eyed girl snorted and checked the readout by the door. "Hah! Walking wasn't the only problem. If you should thank anyone it should be our elusive arsehole Frieza. He's the one that sent your major stress source away for the week." She stood and shuffled between the beds to the door. "I've got a shift starting soon so I'm going to see what food I can scrounge up or I won't be eating for fifteen hours. You want anything?"

"To go home?"

"Chocolate Soufflé and a shot of vodka it is then," TwoBlue smiled ruefully. "Just practice walking some more, you almost don't wince now." She hit the button to open the door and walked out.

OneBlack sidled in as it slid shut.

"You look harassed," ThreeBrown said as she hobbled between the bunks.

The taller girl grabbed the side of one and hauled herself on to one of the top beds. "Since when don't I?" she replied. "I'm going to get wrinkle lines before I'm twenty."

ThreeBrown didn't crack a smile and sat down again. "How long do you think we've been here anyway?"

"The answer 'too long' is an understatement."

OneBlack watched as ThreeBrown nodded and gazed sadly at the floor. Hoping to get some reaction out of her, she recounted the story of her run-in with Radditz some hours earlier omitting the part where he caught her playing around with ki manipulation.

She felt guilty about this but she had not told any of them about Radditz knowing exactly what she was and most likely, having some idea about what she was up to. Having constant fear of injury from guards was enough without having her friends wanting to kill her for not being more careful.

"Rumour has it you're good with a needle," she said, hoping to change the subject. "Maybe you'll get out of having to stack crates with me when your feet get better."

"Not likely." ThreeBrown was now attempting long strides down the centre of the small room. "As if they would make us do something just because we're good at it. It's more fun if we cock it up and get hurt instead."

"Cynicism doesn't work well on you," OneBlack frowned.

"Yeah, well there's not much room for optimism on this ship."

* * *

Frieza regarded the trembling man in front of him quietly. "And you have seen him?"

"I have Master Frieza," the man answered. "With my own eyes I saw him board the rebel ship."

The room they were in was underground, deep in one of Frieza's many secret bases, the positions known only to a select few. The lighting was dim and the décor sparse. This was not a place Frieza used for regular audience.

"Did you speak with him?" the Tsiru-jin lord asked softly.

The man shook his head. "N-no, Master Frieza, he spoke very little to any of the elders, his slave did most of the talking."

Frieza delicately took a sip of wine from a glass proffered by his current favourite Untouchable. The dim light made her long purple hair gleam softly. "I did not think it customary that Yotemu-jins would deal with a slave."

The man forced a chuckle. "We did not know what to expect. It has been years since a Saiya-jin had set foot on our world and never one to oppose you. We thought it best to let it slide."

"Let it slide," Frieza repeated softly. He handed the glass back to the Untouchable. "Well I am glad you came to tell me this." The man's eyes glimmered with the first stirrings of hope. "But I can't have you telling anyone that I know now, can I?"

The Untouchable had been in her Master's service for years, but even she had to close her eyes before the man stopped screaming.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

_Once again I'm sorry for the long wait between chapters. I have no intentions on giving up on this but I'm a busy girl and have just finished my last year at University. Add to that more pressing projects and artwork that needs to be finished coming out the wazoo and it leaves me very little time for my pet project._

_Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter._

_Drop me a line for any questions (except about 'wazoo' – that's figure of speech and as far as I know, a nonsense word)._


	13. Chapter 12

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 12:**

Ophis tapped his fingers impatiently on the polished wood table of the Briefs dining room. Beside him his two advisors had their head on their hands, leaning heavily on their elbows. The three had been sitting in an uncomfortable silence for the past hour and Ophis was beginning to get annoyed. As a high ranking Maiyosh-jin he was not accustomed to waiting

Dr. Briefs had insisted that the meeting was urgent, had he not the small delegation Maiyosh-sei had deemed to attend to this backwater little planet would have left some time ago.

"Damn them to the depths of hell! What is taking so long?" Ophis growled, slamming his fist down on the table.

"Nothing to be concerned about," Hontij replied quietly as he slipped into the room, sporting Dr. Brief's small black cat on his shoulder. "The good doctor has had some unexpected guests."

Ophis snorted and glared at his friend. "More important than I?"

Hontij smiled gently. "Important enough for Dr. Briefs to ask your permission for them to sit in on this meeting: they may be able to help us."

"I highly doubt that." His advisors muttered their agreement. "We are the forward point of the rebellion; there are no others out there who can bring anything other than hindrance to our cause." He paused and sighed, waving his hand idly at the door. "But I have waited long enough as it is. Let the doctor bring his guests in and let's have this damn meeting over with."

Rolling his eyes at his friend's flippant manner, Hontij nodded and turned back to hold the door open for as Dr. Briefs entered the room followed by a throng of people.

Brief's blue-haired daughter and the dark-haired man at her side he knew already and Ophis nodded amiably at them as they took their seats, but the rest of the company he stared at with open contempt.

The tall three-eyed man sat down quietly but had a child trailing at his side; a ridiculous albino who looked about ready to burst into tears at the slightest noise. They were closely followed by a midget who bore the Chikyuu-jin mark of a monk on his forehead.

_Weaklings, all of them_, Ophis moaned quietly to himself.

And then the Namek walked through the door.

Ophis and his two advisors nearly fell off their chairs.

"By all the hells! How did you get a Namek here?" he cried, pointing madly in Piccolo's direction.

Hontij calmly handed him a glass of potent smelling liquid and set a hand on his shoulder. "Friend Piccolo has lived here his whole life."

The sullen green-skinned alien crossed his arms and lent back into a corner of the room. "I'm nobody's friend." He glared between Hontij and Ophis. "Namek? Is that what my people are called?"

Hontij looked startled. "You didn't know?"

Piccolo closed his eyes in exasperation. "How am I to know when there are no others to ask?" His black eyes opened again and fixed Hontij with a piercing gaze. "Judging by his reaction though, we're well known. Why is it so surprising to him to find me here?"

Hontij glanced sidelong at Ophis. "Well, Nameks are a bit of a legend. A hidden race almost. The only reason we know you exist is because one pops up on a random planet from time to time; and, of course, there are the stories."

Ophis noticed that the others were all sitting forward in their seats. Obviously this was news to them as well.

"Stories?" Bulma asked curiously.

Hontij chuckled nervously and slid into the seat opposite her. "They're silly things really; universal fairy tales about magical balls that grant wishes, called…"

"…Dragonballs?" Bulma asked quietly.

"Dragonballs?" repeated a voice in the doorway. "Are we collecting them again?"

Ophis looked up at the man in the doorway and paused a moment in confusion. Then his eyes went wide and he stood and pointed wildly, violently knocking his chair over as he did so. "What in the hells names is he doing here?"

"I thought you had explained about this, Hontij," Briefs said mildly from his chair.

Hontij looked sheepish. "I really have no excuse, except that I forgot." He turned to Ophis. "It really is nothing to worry about, it isn't what you…"

"Nothing to worry about! It's a bloody Saiya-jin!" Ophis was quickly turning purple in rage.

"Ah, yes, I forgot to mention that also," he muttered, scratching the back of his head.

"Son's a what?" Bulma screeched across the table at Hontij, making her friends wince with the volume. "But you said that…that…"

Son Gokou tilted his head to the side and regarded the rest of the room. "Um, if this is a bad time, I'll come back later."

"Don't be dense!" Bulma growled. "Get in here and sit down." She glared at Hontij. "Our esteemed guest, who tells us all we need to know of the universe, is going to explain what, by Kami, is going on."

"Don't let that thing in here!" Ophis cried, backing up against the wall, his two advisors by his side. "You're all mad. He'll kill us!"

Hontij stood and walked over to Ophis, his hands spread in open gesture. "Ophis, this is Son Gokou, he is a very old friend of Bulma's. I assure you, there is no danger."

Bulma sighed and set her elbows on the table, placing her head in her hands while Ophis kept a wary eye on a bewildered Gokou as he hesitantly retook a seat next to Yamcha, who jovially slapped him on the back. The Maiyosh-jin winced.

Hontij walked back around the table and stood behind his chair. "First, I apologise for the lack of communication on my behalf." Ophis glared at him. "However, I am assured that Son Gokou is not a threat to us in any way, and after speaking with him myself, I agree."

"But he's a Saiya-jin," one of Ophis' offsiders practically moaned.

Hontij nodded. "Yes and no. He is but he doesn't remember or know anything about them. I have taken the liberty of filling him in on this and, it seems, filled in some answers to a few confusing events in his childhood," Hontij smiled.

"Son-kun's an alien. Who'da thought?" Bulma whispered to Yamcha; a grin on her face. "We should call the authorities, we've been invaded."

Ophis snorted. "A notable day in the science journals," the red skinned man said dryly, "a non-threatening Saiya-jin." He turned to Hontij but kept his eyes on Gokou who was standing against the wall near Piccolo. "I take it that you have looked into his possible history?"

The locks of Hontij's dark red hair moved gently as he nodded. "I have. Judging by his age Gokou was one of the last infants sent out on their purging mission."

"That's that thing where I was supposed to kill everything on the planet?" Gokou asked; eyes wide and innocent. "But I didn't 'cause I hit my head, right?"

"That is correct. With that information," he said, addressing the table once more, "I believe I know who your family was."

Ophis opened his mouth but Bulma butted in.

"Was?"

Hontij sighed. "It is like I said, Bulma, the Saiya-jins were wiped out by a stray asteroid that struck their planet." He paused. "His father was a man called Bardock."

Slamming his fist on the table Ophis hissed, "Bardock! Bardock the scientist?"

Hontij tipped his head to the side to regard his Maiyosh-jin friend. "You knew him?"

Ophis nodded, a scowl on his face.

Bulma stole a look at Gokou. The man had become quiet but was gazing with steady attention at Ophis.

"I had met the man on a few occasions," the Maiyosh-jin was saying, "when I visited Vegeta-sei. He was nothing special. But…" he trailed off as a sudden thought struck him. "Wait, if he's Bardock's son then that means…" He clenched his hand tightly into a fist as his face screwed up in hatred. "Radditz."

"Radish?" Yamcha asked. "What's food got to do with this?"

"No, Rad-ditz," Hontij supplied. "He is one of the surviving Saiya-jins; along with the Prince, Vegeta, and his bodyguard, Nappa." He looked directly at Gokou. "Radditz is your older brother friend, Son Gokou."

"Is he strong?" Gokou asked softly.

"Very," Hontij answered. "Though he is nothing compared to Vegeta and his guard, and they in turn are nothing compared to some of the rest of Frieza's men, not to mention Frieza himself."

Bulma paled. "But, but Son-kun is really strong. I mean, he beat up all those evil guys."

Hontij shook his head softly. "Like I said Bulma, these people are like nothing you have ever seen before."

"Which is why I feel it is appropriate to interrupt the conversation at this point," a new voice announced.

**oOo**

The bridge was quiet when he walked in. Console screens glowed softly, the yellow and green data scrolling across the black backgrounds. Here and there, there was a flash of red and one of the bridge techs would wander over and consult the problem. Zarbon frowned. It was any wonder the Rebel master-tech eluded them so well, when theirs appeared to only work if they felt like it. He cast his eyes around the room and spotted his quarry immediately. This one was hard at work; but then even lowly techs were allowed to harass the slaves if they thought they deserved it.

Petak was on his hands and knees, scouring the floor clean of…whoever the mess had been. The old man's wrinkled hands were clenched tight around the cloth he used and when he stood and bowed as he noticed Zarbon approaching, Frieza's Right Hand noticed that he had been at the job so long that his hands had cramped into place.

"My Lord," the head of the slaves said, bowing further. "How may I assist?"

Zarbon looked down at the shorter man for a moment. "The slave you spoke of, the one I asked to be sent to me; why is she allowed to continue with her game of dirt?"

Petak clutched his blood soaked rag tightly. "I am sorry my Lord. They are my charge and I have done nothing to discourage them."

"I did not ask, what you had allowed," Zarbon cut him off icily. "Why are they allowed to continue?"

The old slave swallowed and twisted the rag in his hands. "I would lose four slaves if I asked them to stop."

"Four? There are four of those…things, walking around this ship?" Zarbon pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. "I have never heard anything as ludicrous as this farce in my entire life. Have them end this game."

Petak wrung his hands together. "May…may I be bold, my Lord?" he asked hesitantly.

Zarbon raised a fine green eyebrow before nodding slowly. He was curious as to why Petak who had served faithfully all these years was now risking his own position for a few lowly underlings.

The old slave sighed. "I was…being selfish my Lord. I have very few and far between people that I can call friend on board this ship. When those girls came aboard I saw an opportunity, a chance to start anew." He paused and looked up at the younger, taller and more powerfully built man, but Zarbon said nothing and so he lowered his eyes and continued. "But no sooner had I set out to try and protect them, they took it upon themselves to do it on their own." He looked up again. "And my Lord, it worked. I have never seen the like. While the others hindered them and in many ways still do, they, by having the lowest and most despised jobs on this ship are exactly where they want to be: out of sight of anybody who truly matters."

"Except for that one," Zarbon replied. "And had you not spoken about her openly, I never would have known." He sneered at the older man. "You do a poor job of protecting your subordinates Head Slave."

Petak nodded sadly. "I have not changed," he muttered softly to himself.

Silence fell between them, the humming of the bridge computers and the techs tapping away at various programs the only sounds in the badly lit room.

After a moment Zarbon spoke. "Her name, the one that is sent to me, what is it? I grow tired of calling her slave."

Petak shook his head. "I do not know my Lord. The other slaves gave them the names we use now. They call her ThreeBrown."

Zarbon looked sceptical.

Petak explained: "Three because she is the third tallest of the four and brown because that is the colour of her eyes."

Frieza's second in command crossed his arms across his chest. "I find it hard to believe that you do not know their names. Did not the capture squad take them from them?"

The Head Slave shook his head wearily. "No, my Lord; and while they did not come to us covered in as much dirt as they wear now, they have never spoken a word aboard any of Master Frieza's ships."

Zarbon was partially stunned by this last revelation. Not that they had never spoken, but that they had not always been caked in the layers of filth they wore now. He berated himself for this oversight. Frieza's underlings, no matter how little of a working cortex they possessed between them, would not have put their own lives at risk by bringing something so ugly onto the ship deliberately.

Petak glanced up at his lord. The man had an odd look in his golden eyes; he almost seemed angry with himself.

"They were not always covered in dirt?" he repeated, almost to himself. "Then what do they…" he trailed off, annoyed at himself for voicing his curiosity.

Petak bowed his head. "Forgive me my Lord. I had forgotten that you did not know. It makes…" the old man swallowed. "It makes my mistake of speaking about her all the worse." He dropped to his knees and touched his head to the floor. "Thank-you for not taking her life," he finished softly. "She makes mine easier sometimes."

Zarbon frowned, not willing to admit that she did the same for him. "I supposed she would have learnt something in all her years, and it gives you someone closer to your age. How long has it been since the last of the old folk died?"

Petak glanced up sharply. "My age, my Lord? You flatter me, but they are far closer in age to Prince Vegeta in years than to me. Younger if I am not mistaken."

_Younger than Vegeta?_ Zarbon slowly digested this information. Vegeta, for all his arrogance and haughtiness was barely out of boy-hood. The slave couldn't possibly be near his age.

He glanced down at the old man. "Go back to your duties. You will find a reward for your compliancy in your quarters. In the next duty session send her to me, and warn her," he lent down and whispered menacingly in the old man's ear, "she will speak to me or her friends _will_ die."

Petak watched helplessly, his heart sinking, as Frieza's second in command strode from the room, his cape billowing behind him.

**oOo**

She was not known for her prowess over her own inner strength but even Bulma noticed the sudden and violent surge in Piccolo's ki at the sound of the intruder's voice. She flinched, screwing up her nose as if the hatred that washed over her smelled as bad as one of Yamcha's sports socks.

"My, my Piccolo, is that any way to treat an old acquaintance? And you are disturbing your hosts," the old voice laughed low, a rattling in its chest.

She looked around and could have sworn that Piccolo Diamo stood on the threshold to the meeting room…except that he was standing against the wall directly on the other side of the table from her and looking more than forty years younger.

"I am Kami," the old – what had Ophis called them? – Namek said jovially, leaning on his heavy staff. "And this is Mr. Popo," he gestured with his free hand.

The others all leant forward, to see something that was hidden by the length of the table from her and she scowled. _Why could they never remember that she was shorter than all of them? Well, except for Krillen_. Who had stood on the seat of his chair to get a better view. She leant back in her seat to see around Yamcha's back, tipping her chair onto its back legs and placing a hand on the wall so that she didn't make a fool of herself by landing sideways on the floor.

It was a short, fat version of Hontij, lacking the red hair - though it may have been hiding under the hat - and gaining a pair of large lips. Bulma stared.

And then her hand slipped on the wall.

She squealed and frantically waved her arms in front of her, desperately trying to counter balance her weight on the likely-to-topple chair. Yamcha calmly reached out and put a hand on the chair between her legs pushing it back into its natural position. She sighed in relief, her feet firmly planted on the floor.

He grinned at her. "He doesn't look _that_ scary babe," he whispered.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Sometimes it was hard to tell if he was serious or just joking around.

Kami chuckled softly. "Well, now that we have been introduced and Piccolo has made the decision not to attack me blindly," Piccolo sneered at the barb and Bulma scooted her chair closer to Yamcha as she saw the Namek clench his fist tight, "I would like to offer you the chance to come and train at my home."

"Your home?" Krillen asked. "Where's that?" He raised a sceptical eyebrow. "And who are you exactly?"

"He is Kami," Piccolo answered, still glaring at the older Namek. "He is the caretaker of this planet. He and I," he sneered, "were once the same being."

Gokou's eyes went wide. "Like before you were Piccolo Diamo. Wow."

Piccolo snorted and turned his head away in disgust for Gokou's obvious awe of the other Namek.

"In any case," the old Namek continued, "I would like for you to come and take special training at my home. This new enemy is like nothing that you have ever fought before. He and his empire are feared throughout the four quadrants. Even those stronger than you are now are nothing against him."

"And your training is going to help? You aren't even a fighter old man," Piccolo rudely muttered.

"_I_ will not be the one training you," Kami replied evenly, a smirk tugging at the wrinkles around his mouth.

The younger Namek looked sideways at his elder and studied him for a moment. "I will come to observe this trainer. If they are as good as you seem to think they are, I will join these humans."

Kami fought to hide a grin. "As you wish."

**oOo**

Radditz lent over the crate looking down at OneBlack. She glared back at him. He grinned. "Bad slave. You shouldn't be so defiant."

She sighed and plunged her hand into the open box in front of her, pulled out a package and tossed it up to him. He caught it, ripped it open with his teeth and proceeded to practically inhale the contents.

It had become almost routine for this little meeting to occur every second day or so. She would come down with the other slaves to unpack and rearrange the storage, forced to do most of the heavy work, the other slaves would leave early, leaving her to clean the mess they left behind and when she had finished she would find that he had silently appeared behind her.

She had her suspicions that he had been in amongst the crates when she and the others had arrived for their shift but as he never bothered them, or sat in an area where they might find him, she couldn't be sure. Today he had wanted more sweet goods. Last time it had been new linen for Vegeta. She wondered if anyone was asking questions about where he was getting all these things from but the likelihood was that no one cared. She had seen other soldiers down here searching for this and that. The difference with Radditz was that he knew that she knew where everything was, and so saved himself the hassle. Plus he had figured out what she was doing and she was not about to risk him telling anyone; especially since she hadn't even told her friends.

He dropped down beside her suddenly, causing her to jump. "Still not talking?" he asked, and grinned at her again.

OneBlack was sure he enjoyed teasing her about her silence, it had become a game for him; trying to get any amount of sound out of her. So far he only had the guttural cry she screamed when he'd pulled her off that other slave. She wiped a clump of dirty hair out of her face, smearing dust and grime across her scarred eye.

"Can you still see out of that thing?" he asked.

She hadn't realised he'd been looking. Slowly she nodded her head. He was in a strange mood today; asking her personal questions, picking her up and hopping nimbly over the crates until she pointed to the one he was looking for where he would usually make her climb.

He bent down to look eye to eye with her. It was an effort on his part as she was deliberately hunched over, to make herself look feeble. "What about that ki of yours? Learnt to throw it yet?"

Now she was worried. What the hell was going on?

She shook her head vehemently and backed away from him. She had to leave. Now.

"Hey," he called as she ducked sideways between two crates. "Hey! What's the matter?"

_I've a crazy Saiya-jin near me,_ she thought._ He's being _nice_. I'm insane for doing this!_ She quickly wound her way through the maze of crates, heading for the ramp leading back up to the lesser storage areas.

"Hey!" he shouted, grabbing her arm and forcing her to stop abruptly. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

_I hate Saiya-jins!_ OneBlack shook her head again, at a loss for a way to communicate that she was confused as all hell by the way he was acting, not to mention that he was scaring her. Not that he would have cared.

"Insane slave," he muttered as he let her go. She stumbled backwards and fell hard onto her rear. "You're as unpredictable as Frieza." He glared down at her, before snorting softly and striding past her to disappear behind yet another tall pile of crates.

She stared after him for a moment before her shoulders sagged in relief.

"And get down here early next time!" he growled, poking his head of long shaggy hair back around the corner.

She cried out and whacked the back of her head on the edge of the crate behind her.

"I get bored easily." He grinned again and his canines glinted in the bright lights of the cargo bay. "Gutteral cries and screaming; your vocab is coming along girl."

His laughter at her indignant expression followed him as he disappeared from her sight again.

**oOo**

Dodoria squinted at the readout before him. It was encrypted, but the tech at the console next to him was working furiously and slowly the text was becoming visible. It ended up being only three sentences long. The encryption had read like an essay.

Fat pink fingers tapped at the screen thoughtfully. Usual procedure would have him run a printout of this message and finding Zarbon so that they could work out how to approach Frieza with the news but he had grown sick of the blue skinned man recently, as his counterpart seemed to have little time for him and rejected every suggestion he made. Irate, Dodoria was not about to pass this chance to remind Frieza why he had elevated him to such an honoured position in the first place.

He ran the print off and strode across the bridge into Frieza's Audience Room.

"Master Frieza," he knelt as the diminutive Tsiru-jin turned from the console he sat at.

Frieza glanced around the room. "Dodoria," he paused. "Where is Zarbon?"

Dodoria dug his fingers into his palms. "I do not know Master Frieza; he has been quite…erratic lately."

Frieza scowled. "What is it?"

The pink man stood. "A message, from the Bryu-jin."

"The scrap people?" Frieza asked, mildly surprised. "What trash are they offering now?"

Dodoria handed the printout to his Lord. "The co-ordinates of Chikyuu-sei."

**oOo**

**Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long...I will not abandon this fic! I love it too much! D Now maybe Star will get off my back P


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Dear all, Sorry for the long wait once again. Like I have said before, this story will not die until it is finished but I have started full time work and so my time is limited. I can't make promises on the regularity of my chapters. So please, if you are enjoying this so far, keep reading, we haven't got to the fun part yet. XD - Karete

To those who submitted reviews - thank you very much, they are always appritiated and I take on criticism where possible.

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 13:**

Zarbon hit the ground face first, the pendant that hung around his forehead digging into the flawless skin of his face. He could feel the blood pooling in his mouth and sliding down his chin and the sudden weight on his back as a thick three toed foot pressed him into the floor. His ribs protested angrily, promising severe pain when he relaxed yet he said nothing, knowing that it could only make the pain worse. It was a harsh lesson that he had learned long ago.

He flinched as Frieza's voice hissed near his ear. "I am disappointed in you. I do hate it so when the creatures I care about," he yanked viciously on Zarbon's braid, causing the other man to bite back a cry of pain, "neglect to do the simple things that I ask of them."

The pull on his braid lessened and Zarbon let his head fall forward, resting it against the cool floor of Frieza's audience room. The pressure lifted from his back and he attempted to quietly suck in a lungful of air. Small fingers gripped his chin and turned his face gently.

Frieza's thumb idly stroked the side of his face. "It makes me so sad. I gave you everything and this is how you repay me?"

Zarbon fought to make himself answer, coughing blood on to the floor with his words. "Master Frieza, I-I apologize for my," he paused to breathe, "tardiness the other day." Breathe. "It could not be helped. I..." He winced as the fingers tightened.

"Tell me pretty one, do you think I ask too much?" Frieza's breath whispered across his cheek and only years of practice kept him from turning his head away.

Face aching from where the small white fingers dug into his skin, Zarbon shook his head. "No Master Frieza."

"And do I not treat my people well?"

"You do Master Frieza."

Frieza lent closer. "Hn. Yes. Yes I do," he muttered, lips against Zarbon's cheek. "You especially, my pretty one."

Abruptly Zarbon's head knocked sharply against the floor as Frieza let his face go. Stars flashed in his vision at the impact and he barely heard the slapping of his Lord's feet on the floor as he walked away from him.

* * *

A scowl plastered itself to Frieza's features as he stalked from the room. Entering the dimly lit hallway beyond, he made his way through his ship, heading for his quarters. He was upset at having to treat his favourite general in such a manner but such tardiness could never be allowed.

He stopped and raised a hand to examine it more closely.

Zarbon's dark blood dripped off the end of his pearly white fingers, splashing down to the tiled floor below. A few strands of green hair had stuck to the blood and so he shook his hand vigorously, trying to dislodge them. They floated sadly to the floor to wait for a slave to sweep them away.

Frieza admired his hands; they cared for a large chunk of the universe, but so very few appreciated his work. He had saved many worlds and races from becoming extinct, allowing them to achieve the greatness they deserved. Asking complete fealty in exchange was not excessive. Not in the least.

Yet it seemed that every time he turned around these days, another rebellion was waiting to oppose him, claiming that he was a tyrant. Zarbon's council in these times was crucial to his well being and to have the man fail at his job was just unacceptable.

The scowl faded. He owned everyone's lives; if it took taking some of those lives away to make them realise, then that would be what must be done.

He would give the Saiya-jin rebel tech six months; send him an ultimatum in the form of a rumour and if there was no answer, attack Chikyuu-sei blindly. The planet itself was nothing special and could afford to be wasted.

Frieza continued down the hall, dripping the blood of his subject on the floor behind.

* * *

The hissing of the door announced Frieza's departure but Zarbon lay still a few minutes more, before achingly pulling himself to his feet. He did not want to be there when the Untouchables came for him. Slowly, he limped out of the room.

The ships lights were dimmed. It was the designated sleeping time for the majority of crew and soldiers. As he walked to his quarters he would every now and then encounter a slave, but they hastily backed away from him, bowing their heads and never looking in his direction.

Eventually he turned into the corridor that led to his rooms. It seemed an age before he had limped the length of the hall and tapped in the coded lock on the door. Wearily he looked into the room as the lights flickered on around the edges. An unfamiliar lump caught his eye and he slumped against the doorframe.

As the lights flickered on behind it the lump stirred, then jerked up as if it were a puppet on strings. Aching, he watched the slave turn in horror towards him. As he sucked in painful breaths he watched bemusedly as panic flashed into her eyes before she regained her wits and bowed, her head almost touching the floor as she prostrated herself.

He struggled to keep his eyes open and gripped the edge of the door frame to keep himself upright. Odd, he wasn't one for forgetting things but he only now dimly remembered that he had asked for her to come at this hour. He had meant it as a punishment for her, knowing that it would cut into her sleeping time; sleep that as a slave she probably desperately needed. His eyes closed.

When he opened them she was looking warily at him, still crouched in her bowed position. He rasped in another breath. It hurt and he winced with the pain. Her eyes widened and it slowly dawned on him that he was showing weakness in front of her. Stepping forward he made to move into the room but his leg faltered and he staggered, barely managing to keep himself upright. He landed heavily on his right leg to stop himself from toppling but the sudden jolt sent a lance of pain up the injured limb and it crumpled beneath him.

But he didn't hit the floor.

His eyes, closed tight against the pain, slowly opened and focused on the slave standing before him. Except that she wasn't standing before him; she was keeping him from falling. He was vaguely aware that he should be angry at her for touching him with her dirty hands but he was having too much trouble standing, so he lent on her. She almost buckled under his weight. He felt her change her stance to better support him and that her hands that grasped his cracked armour were trembling with the effort.

He pushed her to his weaker side and put his weight back on his better leg.

"Bedroom," he rasped out.

She shuffled him across the floor, sliding her feet along unsteadily. Somehow she had managed to get her shoulder under his arm. Hazily he wondered how she was supporting his height, as he wasn't bent over as far as he would have expected for leaning on someone so hunched in the back. He grunted at a sudden movement from her, his hand fisting in the filthy cloth covering her shoulders. She froze.

"Move." He barely forced the word out and was unsure that it was him that had said it. Everything seemed to be coming from so far away.

The next he knew he was falling.

He landed hard upon the slave, who let out a cry of discomfort as the jagged edge of his shoulder guard caught her heavily in the back. Breathing hard he pushed himself to the side and felt her wiggle out from under him. Only then did he feel the cool sheets against his cheek. His mind struggled to remember how she had opened the door to his bedroom while still managing to support him.

He felt hands on him and grudgingly rolled over. A wet cloth was dragged across his forehead and water ran into his eyes. Blearily he forced them open.

The slave was leaning over him, an already saturated with blood rag in her hand. She had paused as his eyes opened and averted her eyes. Vaguely he realised that she was waiting for a command.

Or expecting to be reprimanded.

He just stared at her, his mind too hazy to create a coherent thought. She lowered her hand. He followed it and watched as she went to place the rag down next to her, then thought better of putting it on his clean belongings and placed it in her lap. The mixture of his blood and water seeped quickly into the cheap material her garments were made of.

* * *

Goku dashed past a seated Piccolo, a giant wooden mallet raised above his head. Further down the white tiled garden of Kami's Place, Yamcha and Krillen hid behind Mr. Popo's carefully pruned bushes, waiting to ambush the bug known as Gregory as he giggled madly at Goku's every attempt to squash him.

Piccolo glanced across at Tien, who rolled his eyes. It comforted the Namek somewhat; knowing that he was not going mad and that this 'training' as the blue catfish thing had put it, was ludicrous. Gregory nimbly dodged the less that well thought out ambush, causing Krillen to nearly crush Yamcha's foot with his mallet.

"You could join in you know."

The two stoic warriors looked over at the blue catfish, who called himself Kaio-sama.

"All you have to do is make me laugh," he chuckled.

A derisive snort came from the other side of Tien. "These two? You have to be joking. There isn't a worse job they're suited for," Bulma muttered.

Tien scowled. "Why are you here anyway?"

Bulma tossed her blue hair over her shoulder. "I came to lend Yamcha and Son-kun some support. Plus, Kami wanted to speak with me."

"And he's nowhere in sight because?"

She scowled. "Be damned if I know how a Namek thinks. He invited me, I came, end of story."

There was a sudden shout of triumph and the three looked around to see Goku dancing about his mallet, under which Gregory lay. "Does this mean I get to move on to the next bit of the training?" he shouted across the compound.

"Certainly does, my boy!" Kaio-sama grinned widely.

Yamcha threw down his mallet in disgust, narrowly missing Mr. Popo as he went about his daily watering of the flowers. "Why does Goku always get to be so good at everything? It's not fair."

"Maybe cause he's an alien?" Bulma muttered sarcastically under her breath.

Krillen, well used to being shown up by Goku, slapped Yamcha on the back. "We'll get him eventually; and he'll be a very sorry bug when we do."

Kaio-sama smiled. _Interesting bunch you have here Kami. Are you sure they can do the job?_

Kami's dry laugher echoed in his head. _No. I can't be sure of anything. All I know is that they are our best chance._

_That doesn't sound too convincing._

_What else have we left to try?_ Kami fell silent for a moment. _Could you send the girl in? I need to speak with her now._

_I still don't see why I can't do it,_ Kaio-sama sulked.

Kami chuckled. _Because, respectfully Kaio-sama, we need someone with more tact._

* * *

ThreeBrown tried to wiggle unnoticeably to keep her legs from going numb. She had received no sign from her Lord that she had permission to, move from her spot, or anything that led her to believe that he was aware of his surroundings. He still lay where he had fallen, staring at her lap. She had long ago turned her knuckles white, beneath the dirt smeared on them, by twisting the blood soaked rag in her lap into knots.

She risked a glance at the injured man on the bed; his eyes were glazed and his breathing shallow. She swallowed; a difficult task since her throat had gone dry the moment he had walked into his chambers. She certainly hadn't meant to fall asleep but he had been late to what had become a regular session and the room had smelled so nice and comfortable. Her heart had almost leapt out her throat when her sleep deprived mind registered the lights flickering on in the room.

Her eyes focused again on the very dangerous man on the bed. He was still bleeding badly. She bit her lip. Should she try to help him or go _for_ help? If she left and he woke up he might be angry at her for leaving her post but if something happened to him that she could not fix…

ThreeBrown closed her eyes, took a deep breath and made her decision. She would take another beating over death.

Quickly she got up and slid off the bed. Her feet had barely touched the floor when his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. Before she even had time to react she was laying on her back in the bed with the injured Zarbon leaning over her.

Terror flooded her and a roaring filled her ears, blocking out the sound of his ragged breathing. She could feel his arms trembling at the effort to keep himself up but in her panic mistook it for shaking in rage. He lent heavily to one side of her and moved a hand over her face.

She closed her eyes, knowing that his blood streaked face would be the last thing she saw, and waited for the warmth of the ki ball.

The warmth came, but in the form of the heat from his hand as it covered her face. He dragged his fingers across her skin, pulling together all the hair matted to her face before pushing it back over her head. Her eyes opened and stared somewhere around his chin, her whole body trembling. _What is he doing?_

His fingers slowly picked away all the loose strands as his blood dripped from a gash on his hairline, down his face, to drip off the end of his nose on to her. Finally he stopped, dropping his hand back to her other side.

"The old man was wrong," she heard him mutter. "You're not Vegeta's age." He paused to suck in a painful breath. "You're younger." He snorted softly in amusement and collapsed on her.

Heart beating rapidly in her chest ThreeBrown carefully pushed Zarbon off her. He didn't stir so she quickly checked his pulse to ensure that he was still alive. It was weak and thready. Bolting from his rooms, she had to force herself to slow down in the corridors and make her way through the ship as quickly as possible, while not drawing attention to herself.

It seemed forever before she found the medical wing; as it was rare indeed that a slave was ever brought there. The door slid open as she approached; the only one on the ship that did not require the touch of a panel. Head bowed, she stepped inside.

No one acknowledged her presence as she walked in and so she stared at her feet for a moment, thinking how grubby they were compared to the stark whiteness of the floor, before she risked looking up. A girl stared back at her, wide eyed and apparently trying to decide whether she was startled or horrified. Clasping a hand to her breast and running the other through her short cropped pale green hair, she spoke.

"You scared me!" her pretty voice said as ThreeBrown lowered her eyes. "Are you after the Doctor? He just stepped out."

ThreeBrown nodded hesitantly, wondering who this girl was, that she would speak to her so politely.

The girl's face popped into her vision and ThreeBrown recoiled in fright, nearly falling in her haste to show fealty to the other girl.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" the girl asked, her eyes wide. "One of those slaves that don't talk?"

ThreeBrown kept her head down but nodded hesitantly.

The girl clapped her hands together, reminding the slave of the many girls who behaved in such a way when they found a puppy back on her home-world. "I'm Failei, but most call me Fai. I'm the Untouchable assigned to help the Doctor when I'm not busy doing other things." She paused. "We don't see many slaves here. Are you hurt?"

ThreeBrown shook her head and pointed back the way she had come, beckoning with her other hand at the same time.

Failei seemed confused. "Is there someone out there?" she asked, moving past the stricken slave to peer out the door. When she turned around she noticed the blood on the slave's clothes. "Oh! You _are_ hurt! Was it a fight? You can be punished for that you know." She moved forward, her nose wrinkling a little at ThreeBrown's smell. "Here let me take a look. Maybe I can fix it for you so you won't have to wait for the Doctor."

ThreeBrown backed away again, before ducking past the Untouchable and beckoning from the open doorway. The girl looked at her in confusion again, tipping her head to the side and gazing at her as one would a patient with limited mental capacity.

The slave was at a loss. How was this Untouchable not able to understand such a simple gesture? Zarbon was dying and it would be on her head if he did! Frustrated she reached out to grab the girl's arm.

A strong hand grasped her wrist before she got half way there.

Looking up she found herself gazing at soft grey-green eyes. "Touching an Untouchable is not a wise thing to do without permission," the Doctor remarked gently. "I take it you are here to see me. Where are you injured?"

ThreeBrown shook her head again as he released her, once again pointing down the corridor the way she had come.

The Doctor was sharp and was gathering his medical supplies before she realised he had figured out what she wanted. "Who is it?" he asked.

"She doesn't speak," Failei supplied.

He paused. "Ah. Failei, you stay here in case anything else comes up. The slave can help me."

"But she's filthy!" she protested.

"Stay here," the Doctor repeated, dashing out of the room, his bag on his shoulder and ThreeBrown close on his heels. He slowed to let her pass and she took the lead, taking him back to Zarbon's chambers.

* * *

Bulma stood, frozen in shock. "Is there nothing else that can be done?"

Kami shook his head sadly. "I have been trying for many years to think of a way but the sad truth is that there is nothing we can do to prevent it."

"Surely there must be. Maybe it I developed the shields more."

"There is not enough time left. It has been more than a year now and while you have made fine progress, it has not been enough. Though what you have done with your time and limited resources, has been extraordinary," he added hastily, seeing a flash of anger in her eyes at the unintended insult.

Bulma fell silent for a moment. "And you? You are the Kami of Chikyuu-sei, what will happen to you?"

"You needn't worry. I need to survive; for Piccolo's sake if not my own. He knows this, so despite his dislike of me, he will ensure my safety when the time comes."

She nodded. "So all we can do is wait?"

Kami smiled ruefully. "For now."


	15. Chapter 15

**Only the Weak**

By Karete-chan

**Chapter 14:**

It was said that after slaves, soldiers were the biggest gossips. It had taken a little over a day for the news of Zarbon's near death to circulate and filter down to the furthermost reaches of Frieza's empire. Many found great pleasure in the news, as they had found the same fate at the end of Zarbon's hand. Others worried that the command at the top was weakening, signalling the beginning of the Tsiru-jin downfall from power. Others again saw an opportunity to raise themselves through the ranks.

It took a second day for the hype to die down and no further rumours of Frieza's displeasure with his second in command to reach eager ears, for the talk of Frieza's fall to stop, and return to the fate of the ever growing rebellion.

~*~

ThreeBrown paused at the entrance to Zarbon's bedroom, bowing as the Doctor dashed past her, his soft cry of alarm causing her heart to resume its panicked pounding. She didn't dare look into the room, too afraid of the anger that would be directed at her for letting her Lord lay in such a state for so long.

It was only the Doctor's softly spoken command that broke her from her thoughts.

"Here, take this," he ordered holding out a jar of salve to her, "I want you to treat the cuts on his face, just dip your fingers in and spread the salve over them. He won't like it but if he doesn't want the cuts to scar he'll live with it. If I can close these larger wounds," he added softly.

Tentatively ThreeBrown took the jar and retreated around to the other side of the bed intending to do as the doctor asked. Uncapping the cool jar she dipped her fingers in the foul smelling ointment and reached out to smooth it across the cuts on her Lord's face. Abruptly she jerked her hand back.

The doctor eyed her curiously, noting how she stared at her hands. Though the grime smearing them had been rinsed away from bathing the blood from the injured man's face, they were still caked in dirt and any other unknown substances. The doctor smiled gently, "You will not infect him. That salve is very strong." He paused and chuckled. "And I will tell him that you obeyed your training and only put your hands on him because I ordered you to do so."

Her head jerked up at this and sadly he noted the glimmer of gratefulness that flashed across her dirtied face. He sighed. Such a pity: to think that she would be so thankful to someone just for telling the truth.

ThreeBrown watched in morbid curiosity as she spread the salve over the cuts on his face. A muscle in his cheek would twitch each time she touched one. As her hand glanced over the slightly larger gash on his forehead his eyes opened with a snap. Before she could pull her hand back he had grabbed her wrist and his eyes had narrowed. Her eyes went to the Doctor in fear but he was already moving, putting his hand on his Lord's and gently prying his fingers away.

"She is assisting me, my Lord. We cannot move you to a tank until we have closed your wounds, so please, let her continue her work."

After a moment Zarbon nodded and dropped his hand. ThreeBrown went back to her work, trying to ignore his glare, and after a few minutes noticed that he had lost consciousness again.

~*~

Frieza swirled the wine in his glass slowly. He watched as it rose up one side of the glass in a perfect arc only to fall and repeat the process on the other side.

Dodoria watched him nervously from his kneeling salute on the floor. He had been like this for a full ten minutes and his knees were starting to feel the strain. He itched to shift his position but was too scared of what Frieza would do. Especially after he had beaten Zarbon so severely for being a mere thirty seconds late only the day before.

The clink of the fine crystal wine glass broke Dodoria from his fears. Frieza was standing and reaching out for a printout on the table beside him.

"It is news like this, Mr. Dodoria, which truly makes me happy to rule over such a prosperous empire." He shook the paper at his fat pink general. "Do you know what this is?"

Dodoria took the opportunity to stand and reach for the printout, his knees protesting the entire way.

"Ah ah," Frieza trilled, snatching it out of his reach. "I would like to keep this intact, if you don't mind. The last printout I gave you came back with icky smears all over it."

Dodoria muttered a vague apology and stepped back, wiping his hands on the back of his bodysuit.

"The Master-tech is cornered. No movement has been made since he returned to Chikyuu. The Ginyu Force have actually produced me some good news, for once. Do you know what this means?"

"You are attacking the planet right away to rid yourself of the pest?"

Frieza scowled. "No. Where would the fun be in that?"

Dodoria hurried to make amends. "I-I'm sorry Master Frieza, I thought-"

"Not your best skill." Frieza turned and walked to the large plexi-glass window the faced the nearest planet. Its surface swirled with yellow and orange clouds. "The Master-tech is undoubtedly this wayward Saiyan, so I will be sending Vegeta to retrieve his insubordinate subject. But first I wish to have a party."

"A party my Lord?"

"Yes. It will be to celebrate the day of my birth and to announce the impending capture of the rebels Master-tech. Invite anyone with power and any that need reminding that they have it only because of me. I will leave you in charge of the details."

"Yes, Master Frieza, Zarbon and I would be happy to."

Frieza turned abruptly. "Who mentioned anything about Zarbon? He will not be here to help you. Inform him that he has business in the Kliptyr system. The treaty needs to be organised for a cease-fire."

Dodoria grinned. "Their iron ore beds for your ceasing fire?"

"Exactly."

~*~

The room slowly swam back into focus as Zarbon prised his eyes open. It took a moment longer for him to remember where he was. Then he tried to sit up. Dizziness hit him and he collapsed back onto his pillows.

He moved his hand to his head to block the light and relieve some of the dizziness; or at least he tried to – his arm did not seem to want to obey the command.

Turning his head to the side he could make out that his arm was swathed in bandages. He lifted his head a little and realised that most of his body was trussed up this way. _Thank the gods for the Doctor_, he thought, horrified to think that he may have lain in that messy state for anyone to find.

Then he remembered the slave. Rage tore through him that she had been witness to such weakness; until it occurred to him that he should at least be grateful that she was so reliable. Had she not stayed to do her duty and fallen asleep then he would likely be dead.

Frieza had been in a foul mood that day.

"Ah, you are awake."

Zarbon jerked his head to the side – earning him a twinge up his neck – to see the Doctor rising from a chair that had obviously been brought in from the other room.

"How-"

The Doctor held up his hand. "Don't talk. You've been here for two days and I wasn't able to bring enough meds to keep you sufficiently hydrated."

Two days. The thought of the work that would have piled up in that time only added to his headache. "I will talk if I wish to," he replied stubbornly.

The Doctor sighed. "Then you will only have yourself to blame if your headache becomes worse."

"I have work to do," he rasped.

The Doctor frowned. "You need to spend at least a day and a half in a tank before I will be satisfied that you are fit for work. Had that slave not been so quick to fetch me then you would have bled out."

Ignoring the Doctor's obvious tone of 'you should be dead', Zarbon managed to get his hands underneath his hips and hoisted himself up against his pillows so that he was sitting. Breathing heavily from the effort and head spinning, he glared at the Doctor.

"You let her aid you," his tone was accusatory.

The Doctor turned away. "I did. I also had her move some furniture for me, he continued, as if Zarbon had not sounded like he wanted to kill him. "She follows orders well; those cuts on your face will not scar, thanks to her."

"You know of her?"

"I had heard," he replied, turning back with a small silver instrument in hand, "about some slaves that were living like bilge-rats. But that was all. I do not see slaves often enough to know of their going-ons." He turned on the device and swept it over Zarbon's legs. "Why? Is there something that I should especially know of them?"

"I would have thought that your sense would tell you that I would never allow a slave to touch me."

"Then I will not ask why she knew you were in such a state, my Lord," he stepped back and calmly read the results on his device as Zarbon lunged at him in anger. "Hmm, I think we should be able to move you; your leg should hold." He slipped the device into one of his many pockets. "My sense told me that she would be more of a help than a hindrance because, if I may say so my Lord, there are not many slaves that would aid you. She likes the skin she lives in - dirt covered or not - too much, I would say, to risk it." He tapped the side of his scouter. "Feilei, ready a tank and prepare a stretcher to be brought to Lord Zarbon's quarters." He turned back to his patient. "I would have liked to have looked at her leg before she had left though. She hides her limp quite well."

Zarbon growled and tipped his head against the wall. "What the slave cares for is none of my concern. But if you care for your skin you will never allow something like that to occur. Ever again."

The Doctor bowed as they heard the outer door of the chambers open and the chatter of some excited Untouchables. "As you wish, my Lord."

~*~

"How long do you think it has been?" TwoBlue asked absently one day.

ThreeBrown looked up from the food scraps she was sweeping into a pile. "What?"

"I was just thinking. I have no idea how long we've been on this ship. You can't even tell one day apart from another." She waved her hand wildly. "The schedule is the only real thing we have to go by and that only tells us when we can sleep."

"Is 'too long' enough of a gross understatement?" ThreeBrown retorted as she bent to pick up the scraps before depositing them in the nearest waste disposal. "Why do you want to know? It isn't like it will make any dif-" she cut off as the head of the cleaning roster stalked into the room.

He glanced around then shook his head. "Going nuts hearing voices now," he mumbled on his way out.

ThreeBrown waited for his footsteps to fade before continuing. "Knowing how long we've been here won't make any difference to us. Pass me that bucket of water will you?"

The already murky water sloshed over the floor as TwoBlue passed her friend the bucket. "Yeah, but I'd still like to know how old I am. We've been at least a year here; I've had a birthday, maybe two."

"And we missed Christmas and Easter too," the brown eyed girl said with a sigh.

"Not to mention Hanukah and New Years. So many presents to catch up on."

"The guards will give you an unwanted one if we aren't finished here in the next few minutes."

TwoBlue snorted. "We're in the back room, they have to get the others to finish before we do and that will never happen. You-"

"-worry too much?"

TwoBlue glanced away. "Yeah."

"If only I worried enough."

~*~

There was a crunch and pieces of the energy bar floated down to settle on the floor of the cargo hold. OneBlack glared at them in annoyance; now she would have to clean them up. Above her, Radditz laughed.

"If you don't want to pick it up, then just leave it, girl."

She slowly counted to ten.

"They aren't always going to blame it on you."

_Yes they are_, she thought miserably.

He landed beside her, amongst the cargo crates, without a sound. "Well, let it never be said that I don't repay my debts." He grinned, showing off his very white canine teeth. "I must be the best fed Saiyan to ever had set foot on this ship. Have they noticed the missing food yet?"

She nodded and bit her lip in guilt as she remembered the way they had punished the slave who had been in charge of the shipment that she had taken the food from.

Radditz frowned then shoved her shoulder hard enough to make her stagger into the crate behind her. She let out a grunt as the wind was knocked out of her. "Survival of the fittest, girl; that slave should learn from the lesson, earned or no. Now, about me repaying you."

He gestured for her to follow him and took off between some crates. Sighing, she slowly followed after him, until he decided that going cross-country was more his style. Once again she found herself glaring up at him.

"Jump," he said.

OneBlack stared at him, now certain that he had lost his mind. The crates were three times her height. She jumped feebly and shook her head.

"Not like that, idiot. Use your ki."

She shrugged and shook her head again.

She heard him sigh. "You gather it up like normal, right, and then just push down with it when you jump."

'_Push down when you jump'? What the hell?_ Her incredulity must have shown on her face.

"I'm not a damn teacher! Just try! If you can't even do that why are you bothering learning ki manipulation at all?" he growled at her.

_Fine_, she thought, _I'll try your vague bloody instructions, crazy Saiyan_. Slowly she gathered her ki until she could see it burning as a soft white ball in her minds eye. Breathing deeply she shoved it downward with all her might and jumped upwards at the same time.

She opened her eyes in time to see the toes of his boots before she started to fall back again. Wildly she threw her arms out and barely managed to grab the edge of the crate. Her arm jerked in its socket and she cried out in pain; and then again when he used that same arm to haul her up onto the crate beside him. Glaring all kinds of death at him she gingerly rubbed her aching shoulder.

"Good," he said, "least you worked it out. Next lesson – jumping across wide gaps."

OneBlack groaned and slowly followed after him to where he had decided to continue his lesson.

As it turned out, the first step was the hardest: and truthfully, she hadn't really found that all that hard once she'd tried. She was a quick student and was soon bounding over crates after him.

"Not bad for a weakling," he commented after she had made a circuit of some crates. "Not as good as a Saiyan brat but not the crappiest I've seen either. Let's move on to the last lesson."

_Last lesson?_ She was panting where she stood, barely managing to stay on her feet.

"But first," he tossed her a small silver packet. "Eat. You'll keel over with exhaustion if you don't."

_And whose fault would that be?_ she thought bitterly as she ripped open the packet and tore into the energy bar.

The taste of real food nearly floored her. She sat with a thump onto the crate she stood on and barely managed to hold back tears. How could she have forgotten how _good_ things could taste? Hastily she bowed her head, not wanting him to see, and tried vainly not to wolf the bar down in one gulp.

He noticed her frantic chewing and snatched the bar out of her hands. "Whoa! Slow down. You wanna make yourself si-" He was cut off as she lunged at his hand with a strangled cry. He easily dodged her and she sprawled face first on to the hard plasti-surface of the crate, nearly sending herself off the edge.

"Shit, girl," he said softly. "Not even I've been that hungry."

She sat up slowly, keeping her face away from him, mortified beyond belief that she had just attacked him. Stupidly enough she wasn't scared of what he would do, only that the rare times she saw him down in the cargo bays would stop: leaving her nothing to break up the stints of backbreaking labour that consumed boring day after boring day.

The bar appeared over her shoulder. "Here. But eat it slowly. When you're done you can have another." She turned and looked up at him. "I can't have you collapsing in the middle of my repayment." She reached out and took it, barely managing not to snatch it from his hand, and took a small bite.

"Only need one hand to eat. Hold the other out. You can eat and train at the same time."

She did as he asked, sticking out her hand. "Right. Show me your ki." He sighed at the lack of understanding on her face. "Make it appear in your hand."

She nodded (while chewing) and closed her eyes to concentrate. After about a minute she opened them to see a small white light hovering in the palm of her hand. Radditz was nearly nose to nose with it, scrutinizing it as if it were a piece of meat. He tapped the side of his scouter a few times. "Hmph. Not much there. Better than nothing," he mumbled to himself. He sat back on his haunches and glared at it. "Needs some work, but could be decent enough. Not warrior worthy by a long short though."

She was slightly disappointed by his words and berated herself for thinking that she ever could be strong enough to escape this forced life.

"Okay, now imagine that it's warm…like fire or something."

As soon as the image of fire popped into her head, she felt a searing heat on her palm and dropped the little ball of ki with a cry. Radditz jumped back as it nearly singed his tail. "Not so that _you_ feel it, idiot! What would be the point of that?" he growled. "Try again. And this time I want you to throw it." He grinned. "Or I won't give you that second bar."

~*~

Zarbon was welcomed back to his chambers by the incessant buzzing of his vid-phone. Glaring at the thing, he stalked over and hit the answer button.

"What?" he barked at it.

"Yeah, and g'day to you to," Jeice muttered. "What did I do to deserve that face?"

Zarbon pinched the bridge of his nose. "What in the seven hells do you want?"

Jeice shrugged. "I don't know why I bother. Here I am trying to be friendly. Making a social call-"

"You do realise that I have been in a tank the last two days?"

"Might've heard that."

"So you what? Thought you would cheer me up?"

Jeice shook his head vehemently. "Hells no. I thought I would cheer _me_ up! Do you know how bloody boring it is out here? No girls, no booze, we ran outta things to gamble with!"

"My heart bleeds." He sighed. "Look, Jeice, I have to go. My pod leaves for Kliptyr in twenty."

Jeice's eyes widened. "A pod? Frieza is sending _you_ in a pod?" He whistled low. "You musta, done something _baaaad_," he grinned.

Zarbon pressed disconnect.

Twenty clicks later he found himself standing on a platform that he had not used in many long years. The pod rested on its launch/landing pad innocently, mocking him for the level that he had been reduced to.

He wanted to kick it.

A tech scurried over to him. "Your pod is ready my Lord. All necessary documents and information have been uploaded onto its computer."

"How long is the trip?"

The tech consulted his handheld data port. "A little less than four days my Lord. We have set up the SI to be activated when you are ready."

Zarbon gave an inner sigh of relief. At least the SI would let him sleep most of the way there. "Well then, I suppose I should not waste any more time," he mumbled, climbing into the small space craft.

~*~

Vegeta ran his hands through his hair and glared at the screen in front of him. "Where is that idiot?" he muttered to himself.

The door hissed open behind him and Nappa stalked in. Vegeta wrinkled his nose at the stench the larger Saiyan gave off, letting him know that he had just returned from his daily workout. Nappa grunted a greeting to his Prince then disappeared into the rooms adjacent to Vegeta's quarters, which he shared with Radditz. He reappeared a few moments latter and much to Vegeta's disappointment didn't smell any better.

"Where is Radditz?" Vegeta asked, trying not to breath through his nose.

The bigger man lowered himself onto a chair. "Haven't seen him since before morning meal. What has he done this time?"

Vegeta grunted. "Surprisingly, nothing. We have been assigned and I do not want to waste my breath repeating myself." He spun in his chair to face the doorway. "But if that third-class moron doesn't sho-"

The door hissed open and said moron strolled through.

Radditz looked at the two glaring at him. "What?"

Nappa groaned. "Hells, you idiot, learn your goddammed place!"

Surprisingly Radditz did not retort, instead he knelt and gave Vegeta the proper salute. The Prince raised an eyebrow at this; he had not seen Radditz in such a good mood for a long while. He let himself dwell a moment on what it might be before he allowed more pressing matters to take its place.

"We have been assigned."

Radditz looked up, and then proceeded to sit crossed-legged where he knelt. Vegeta knew it had been too much to hope for that he would stay respectful for more than a few moments.

"Frieza is sending us to Chikyuu to deal with the rebel Master-Tech."

Radditz leapt up. "And what are we supposed to do with him when we find him?"

"Whatever we must," Vegeta replied calmly watching the long haired man carefully.

"And if he does turn out to be Saiyan?" Radditz prompted.

Vegeta scowled. "Which I highly doubt, given the unclear rumours, we will do what we must. If your father's other get is there then he will probably be of no use to us."

"But-"

"Enough!" the Prince roared, rising from his chair and letting his ki swirl around him. "If your brother is alive and not dead and scatted to the winds these past twenty years, then your 'brother' let the natives tame him! He will be useless to our cause!"

Radditz clenched his fists and glared at the floor. Nappa could feel the rage coming off the younger man in waves. He decided to interject with another question before the matter got worse.

"My Prince, when do we leave?"

Vegeta snorted and took his seat again, still keeping his eyes on Radditz who had not moved. "A while. Frieza has organised some ridiculous party to be held and wants us in attendance. The Chikyuu mission will take at least thirty days, so we have been ordered not to leave until the party is over. Not that it has been announced when it will be."

Nappa frowned. "It is unlike Frieza to want our presence."

Vegeta shrugged. "I don't pretend to understand how his little Tsiru-jin mind works." He stood and walked toward the door. It hissed open at his approach. "But I like the idea of thirty days without seeing his ugly face. I'm going to the training rooms." The door hissed shut behind him.

"Strange," Nappa muttered, "this isn't his usual training time."

"He probably did it to get away from your smell," Radditz blurted, still standing stock still in the middle of the room.

He didn't try to block the punch that Nappa threw at his face and went flying into the opposite wall.

"Insubordinate third-class idiot!" Nappa stalked past him and into their rooms. "And stop disappearing all the time."

~*~

The atmosphere was not a happy one as Bulma walked into her father's private study. She nodded to the assorted people gathered on the small tattered lounge - that her father refused to throw out much to her mother's displeasure - and took a seat next to Hontij, who had opted for one of the odd tidier looking, and therefore, safer, deckchairs that her father had had brought in for the meeting.

She smiled at Hontij as she sat. "Did I miss anything?"

"Not as yet," he replied. "Your father has just been relaying the message from your Kami-sama." His eyes turned grim. "To think that we have as little as five months left."

"Less now," Bulma sighed. "It's far closer to four. I just hope we can make a decision today."

She fell quiet at Dr. Briefs stood and called for the next order of business.

"As you all now know, Chikyuu has barely four months before the disaster that Kami foretold hits us. We all know that it will be some form of attack by Frieza, but whether it will be just to invade or destroy us we aren't yet sure. We need to make a decision today about what we can and can't do and whether we need a contingency plan."

The president of Chikyuu stood. "Regardless of attack or invasion, all civilians should start to be evacuated off-planet effective immediately."

"And what reason would you give the people?" the head of the Chikyuu army enquired. "That we are going to be invaded by aliens? All you would do is inspire panic."

"Better panicked than dead," Bulma commented.

The head of the army turned to her. "And you, Miss Briefs; do you have enough space worthy ships to evacuate an entire planet? Last word was that you barely had one."

She glared at the man. "We have more than one. And if you choose to supplement my current workforce with volunteers I can have several more ready in less than three months."

"That is cutting it too close for not nearly enough passenger space."

A throat cleared across the room. "I believe that I can help there." All eyes turned to Ophis. "I have several ships that are available to begin evacuating your people immediately. I would be happy to lend them to you."

The president shook his head. "We cannot ask that you endanger your merchant routes by supplying us with your ships."

Ophis snorted. "What kind of merchant would I be if I did not have a supply of unmarked ships that could trade tax-free? They cannot be traced. I assure you of that."

"We still have not decided that evacuation is the best course of action," the head of the army reminded them.

Hontij stood, walked over to Dr. Briefs' desk and faced away from them. "Dealing with Frieza, is not a simple task," he began. "It is in my personal experience, though, that you prepare for the worst. Frieza doesn't like to be toyed with and deals a very swift version of justice." He turned to them. "Your planet has little that he could want: no vast caches of oil, metals, precious or otherwise, your people are not fit to serve in his army, and you do not have any particularly interesting wildlife. If the unknown ship that Bulma and I have been tracking is any indication, he already knows the co-ordinates of this planet and is keeping track of our space bound movements."

"In other words, Chikyuu isn't worth anything," Bulma finished, a scowl on her beautiful features.

The president turned to Dr. Briefs and Ophis. "We will evacuate," he said firmly. "Miss Briefs, please let us know if there is ever a time that that ship is not watching us. I do not want those bastards harming any civilians. It would be better if we could sneak them out of our system."

"The ship is due to start turning away from us in a week, we could start sending people then. I could also have several portable versions of my shield ready by then; to give an added layer of protection."

"Ophis, is there a safe haven-"

"They are already notified," the Maiyosh-jin replied.

The president took a deep breath. "Then it seems that all that is left is for me to tell my people to wish their planet farewell."

* * *

**A/N:** Hi all. Yes I am still writing this...in fact this chapter was mostly written not long after I published the last one. The last (quite a chunk) of it it was written about half an hour ago. So, I apologise for any errors in my grammer or spelling. I should learn to use a beta-reader but I figure I lasted this long without one that I might as well keep slugging along on my own. XD

It's extra long to make up for the wait.

Hmmz, things are to start happening soon...not to metion me revamping the old chapters and putting them up on DeviantArt. Oh there's art for this fic up there too - .com - if you're in any way interested.

Hope you enjoyed! Reviewing makes the world go round, la la la.


End file.
